Boys Will Be
by Postapocalypticdepository
Summary: Bella and Edward are college roommates who have known each other forever. They are more like brother and sister rather than friends and lovers. Edward has some bad habits, but Bella is a good cook. Will temptation change their ways allowing them to embrace what's been between them all along? Future lemons with a lot of laughs getting there.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to PAD's graham cracker crust.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Chocolate Factory.

I just want to borrow some of her bits to fill up my empty shell.

* * *

Boys Will Be

* * *

I'm going to kill him.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, get your ass off that couch and into this kitchen right now!"

I hear him get up, gracelessly step onto a half-eaten potato chip bag, and scratch his balls, all before making his way to the fridge.

"Now what did I do?"

"It's what you didn't do. Take a look under the cap of this can of whipped cream."

"Huh, it looks like a lab experiment from bio class."

"Yeah, that's an understatement. What have I told you about never putting your mouth on the tip?"

"I don't really remember _you_ ever saying_ that_ before, but I know, for a fact, that _I_ wouldn't_ ever_ utter those words with female company present.

I wind up and swat him on his rear with a wet dish towel.

"Ouch! Okay, okay I remember."

"Good, glad to know I'm jarring your memory."

"It's more like you're beating me into recollection. Besides, what's wrong with it? I've seen you do it."

"Edward, I rinse the top off with really hot water before I put the cap back on, and I also use a _new_ - untouched by human mouth - toothbrush to clean in between the prongs, too."

"Oh."

"Please, go to the convenience store and get me a new can because frankly, I'm afraid of _this_ one."

"Oh _come on_ Bella, do you really need it? I'm already dressed to stay in for the night..."

"Don't you dare smirk that crooked grin and bat your pretty lashes at me; it's not going to work this time!"

"Shit, I must be losing my touch; I didn't know you were onto me."

"Edward, who do you take me for?

I'm not one of your 'dumb-as-a-stump', 'single nighters' who believe everything you say and all that you do.

I'm Bella Swan, your roommate who has known you her whole life and has put up with your bullshit for just as long."

"Well first off, I believe the correct term of the day is 'one night standee' and secondly, 'geesh', Bella, you're starting to sound like my mother."

"Well Edward, I'm neither your maid, nor your mom for that matter, which means I'm definitely not cleaning up after you.

I don't mind cooking or sharing dessert so long as you make an effort to reciprocate.

So, if you want any of my triple chocolate cream pie, you had better get your butt over to 7-Eleven."

"Um, your pie, the one you're making, that is, is that the one with the extra-large graham cracker crust?"

"Yep."

"With the cooked, extra dark chocolate pudding?"

"The very same."

"Will it have a whole bag of semisweet melted chocolate chips?"

"Most assuredly."

"And you'll put those shaved 60% dark chocolate curly things on top of the whipped cream?"

"I will if you get me a large, dark chocolate bar."

"What if I get you a carton of whipping cream as well as a can? Would you make the _real_, genuine, whipped cream?"

"I suppose, that is if you hurry right back here and do not get _girl interrupted_."

"Ha ha, very funny Bella. I would never let anything get between me and ... your pie."

"That sounds rather forward, somewhat ambiguous... and definitely _not _something I want you to expound upon, so on that note, I'll see you in about a half hour. Oh, and you may want to write it down so you won't forget."

I don't think I've ever seen Edward move that fast for me.

He literally bolted from the kitchen into his bedroom.

I heard a lot of cursing, some random shuffling and a definite toe stubbing.

I bet Edward even put his jeans on over his pajamas.

He may even be wearing two different colored Chucks - not even stopping to tie the laces.

I hope he doesn't trip and plant that pretty face onto the pavement.

His room must really be a disaster.

I'm kind of fearful about going in there.

He didn't seem too fazed by the mold on top of the can.

I wonder if he's got any of that growing in his room.

Actually, strike that, I can do without the knowing.

He hurries out of his room, slams the door and makes his way into the kitchen.

He grabs his keys, opens the fridge and readies himself to drink from the container of o.j.

He has an epiphany just in time before setting his lips on the spout.

He sets down the carton and grabs a glass from the cupboard, careful to make eye contact with me while doing it.

He gets his drink, gulps down its contents, puts back the juice, rinses his glass, and plants a cold, wet, kiss on my cheek.

"Bye Bella. See you in … 28 minutes."

The front door abruptly closes while a picture frame falls to the floor as part of his aftermath.

I remind myself to never get him _really_ excited.

* * *

A/N:

Do you think Edward makes it back in 28 minutes?

Will Bella be stuck with a "cream-less" pie?

Would you like the recipe for my sinful concoction?

* * *

Send me your words and share your thoughts.

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!

* * *

Review me your comments.

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	2. Cullenstein

Welcome to PAD'S old cold car.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Radiator Factory.

I just want to borrow some of her heat to warm it up.

* * *

Cullenstein

* * *

"Holymotherfuckingshit!" It's cold out here! It's gotta be near zero. Huh, even the icicles have icicles. I need to stop shivering my ass and get the key in the ignition. "Shit box, hot rocks, my cock just turn over, dammit."

It's a good thing I'm all by myself. Anyone riding with me would think I'm a deranged mental patient for yelling at my car - especially using those words. But, for some unknown reason, that mantra seems to work every time.

Poor Volvo ... she's been so abused over the years. My dad had her first, then Emmett, then me. I can do without the visuals of what _my parents_ have done in here, but Emmett's had some pretty interesting forms of entertainment with her...as have I.

There's still no heat yet - friggin' Bella and her awesome cooking. She knows that's my one weakness. Like Frankenstein behaves to music, the _Cullenstein _just caves for food. Thank God, I'm almost there.

Huh, Jasper left a blunt in my ashtray. I guess I can't let that go to waste….

Ah, finally, our local twenty-four hour convenience mecca. I need to begin attacking my mental shopping list.

Let's see, why did I come here? ...

Oh yeah, Bella's pie.

I should never have had that weed with Jasper tonight ... or smoked the remainder of it in my car. It was good shit, but now I can't remember a damn thing.

I probably should have put the list into my iPhone, too ... Nah, I'm a guy; I'll figure it out ... eventually.

Mnemonics, Cullen. Think of what Bella said. There were a lot of C's. Mmmm?

Cream! Yeah, yeah that's it … whipped cream … the carton stuff and the canned stuff. Okay, check that.

Ooh, Cheetos, I have to get some of those.

C ... C … Oh yeah, Coke, I need some of that, too.

C ... C … Chocolate! Okay, what chocolate? Umm, chocolate bits!

Oh, and I gotta get one of those big, dark, 60% bar things.

Yes, we need some dip.

Cool, nacho cheese. Cheese begins with a C, too.

I can't forget Tostitos.

Oops, I almost forgot the salsa.

Okay, more C's. Chocolate ... chocolate ... pudding! Awesome!

Alright, one more C. Pudding, chocolate, chocolate bits, whipped cream ... uh it goes into a …

Crust! Got it!

Okay time to get out of here.

"Wait, give me some of those." I flag down the cashier. It's Thursday night tomorrow, I can't do without the Magnums - better get the twelve-pack.

Heh, condoms begin with a C, too.

One more thing, I need smokes.

Hah! Even cigarettes begin with a C. Shit, I'm beginning to sound like "The Count" on Sesame Street. I think that's my cue to leave.

"Your total is $55.21."

... for a fucking pie?

Geez, maybe Bella's right about the list thing.

I bring three full shopping bags out to my once warmed up but now ffffffreezing again car and think ... milk.

I gotta have milk with pie.

I snort, calcium begins with a C, too, so doesn't cow.

It's now nearly sixty dollars and an hour and a half later.

I grab the bags out of my finally toasty car. Huh, toasted. Yeah, I guess I was pretty toasted back there to buy all this.

Shit, this is getting ridiculous. I don't have Mom around here now to take care of me or point me straight. I know Bella's not going to put up with this. She'll probably hand my ass to me on a plate after she cooks it up with something...

Uhhhhh. That image just gives me the "willies" like the Hannibal Lecter and Ray Liotta moment ... that's not something I want to think about before sleeping.

I barely make it inside the front door without sliding and falling on my ass.

It's pretty dark so Bella must have turned the lights off.

"Bella, I got your stuff!" I feel things starting to slip just as I make it to the kitchen counter. I set all the bags down right before they rip.

I grope my way to the light switch and turn it on.

"Oh shit, No!"

Bella made the pie after all, minus the whipped cream.

And right now, it's stuck to the bottom of the grocery bags.

"Fuck."

I remember now. The whipped cream and the 60% dark chocolate were the _only_ things I was supposed to get.

She's going to geld me.

I tread into the bedroom hallway and knock gently on the door.

"Bella, are you awake?"

"Mmm hmm."

Edward, man up and just take the punch.

"Bella, I did something really stupid, and I won't blame you if you want to hit me. So give me your best shot."

"Edward, what are you talking about?"

"I um, wrecked your pie by setting the grocery bags on top of it.

I couldn't remember what I went to the store for because I got partially baked on the way there. So I started messing with mnemonics to remember what I needed to get because I didn't make a list, and I ended up spending 90 minutes getting $60 worth of stuff."

"Well, I'm too tired to deal with you now, and I'd being lying if I said that I _didn't_ expect you to disappoint me. Just put away the groceries, clean up your mess and go to bed."

"Oh ... okay."

Somehow her words hurt more than any beat down she could have given me.

I was expecting a long and drawn out sparring match, but she just shut me down and conceded. I kind of like it when she yells and throws shit at me. God, I'm a sick fuck.

Well, I'm done with putting all the stuff away, and of course I couldn't let the pie go to waste. It's a shame I had to settle for the canned whipped cream. It just doesn't do her desserts justice.

Well, time to hit the sack.

**_Crunch _**…** _rustle_** … **_thud_** … **_thwack _**… **_crash_** … **_slap_**.

Okay, my bed is cleaned off enough to sleep in.

Wow, this room's really a disaster. If I expect to get laid tomorrow night, I better plan on crashing at the house of whichever girl I pick up.

Whew, I'm finally settled into bed. Ahhhh, it feels good to stretch and scratch. _Sigh_. Hmm, what's that on the ceiling? It looks like it's moving. It looks like a...

"**Nooooo fuuuuuuuuuck**!"

"I'm outta of here."

I hate to be a pussy and bother her again tonight especially after being such an ass, but I got an exam tomorrow and need a good night's sleep so the couch is not an option.

I knock lightly and enter slowly.

"Bella, can I sleep in here with you?"

"What happened _now_, Edward?"

"Uh ... there's a spider in my room, and the thing's as big as a small cat!"

"Oh, for the love of ... _get_ in the bed, _stay_ on your side, _don't hog_ the covers, and _keep_ your body parts to yourself. We'll deal with it in the morning."

"I wuv you, Bella. Muwah."

I plant a big kiss on her forehead, vault over body, and slide under her covers. Mmm, Bella's pillows smell so good.

Maybe it's her scent wafting around me, or it's just her being who she is, but as I contentedly begin to drift off to sleep, I reflect, not just on the day but, on an entire lifetime of memories - both good and bad - that have all been shared with the girl next to me.

She's been a like a sister, sometimes a mentor but always a friend. I can consistently count her, but tonight I let her down.

Cullen, there's just no excuse for that. As I blink back a tear and sniff clear my emotion, I make a silent vow proclaiming that I _will_ become the man that she _knows_ is in me.

It may not happen tomorrow or the next day, but one day I'll make her proud.

* * *

A/N:

Awe. Our boy is growing up.

On deck for Chapter 3: BPOV.

Also, the_ pie _will return along with the recipe.

* * *

Your reviews are sweet, send me some sugar.

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	3. The Chocolate Sea Monster

Welcome to PAD's leaky rubber raft.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Ocean.

I just want to borrow her patch kit.

* * *

The Chocolate Sea Monster

* * *

I really didn't anticipate Edward being back on time. Honestly, I didn't expect him back here at all . He always finds some random hookup whenever I send him out. I can hardly blame him; girls drop to his feet. Literally, they do. I've seen it and not just the ones wanting to please the lower half of him. I know what you're thinking … "eeyew". I assure you that I do not spy on Edward, but I have been to plenty of parties with him to see certain sorority sluts, among others, breaking in their proverbial knee-pads in hopes of trying to get a piece of him or, in that sense, multiple microbial bits.

As I try to drift off to sleep a second time, I wonder whether or not this roommate thing with Edward was such a good idea. Presently, we are both second semester freshmen attending the University of Washington. I'm still undeclared but am leaning toward literature or marine biology. As for Edward, he has no clue, and I get that. Some people just can't make up their minds fresh out of high school. I once read that we go through seven different career changes, not jobs, but career changes throughout our lifetime. It's no wonder people have difficulty sticking to one thing. It actually says a lot that we have made it through the first semester without killing each other. We opted to get our own apartment together instead of doing the dorm thing - I like cooking my own food and have no desire to pack on the "freshman fifteen" or be alienated from my own place because my would be female dorm-mate decides she wants to get-up-on her boyfriend all weekend. I have my college classes and a part time job to focus on plus keeping up after Edward. We just figured since we've practically lived in each other's homes, for nearly all of our lives, we'd make ideal housemates because we know the other's habits and quirks so well.

I know that keeping on top of Edward can be a full time occupation... Let me rephrase that. What I mean to say is keeping Edward focused is a challenge and living with him brings on its own kind of drama, but we agreed, before we moved in together, that I would not be a slave nor would he be a slob.

Esme, God love her, is Edward's mother. She is also like a second mom to me, but she's let him get away with everything. Since we were little, she's been quite the enabler, but who could blame her. Edward's got the charm of Bill Clinton and the brains to match, but unfortunately, he never applies himself. Since we were teenagers I've always been stuck being the "heavy" telling him, at every turn, not to do stupid things that would jeopardize his health, academics or freedom. Don't get me wrong, I really do like Edward but in a platonic way. He's very easy on the eyes and a lot of fun when he's not being a douche, but that doesn't make him boyfriend material.

I practically know everything about him even things he's never told me and would be mortified over if he found out I knew about them. Those things alone are enough to not entertain the idea of beginning a relationship with him. We had our opportunities. Weed, mushrooms, and alcohol, alone or in concert, can make teenagers really horny. We were just lucky that we didn't act on those impulses then; it could have destroyed our friendship if things fell apart on us. I'd be a fool to think I'd be immune to his "do-them-then-leave-them" tendencies. It would still hurt if he dropped me. He's always been very self-centered and a user of women. The sooner he realizes this, the sooner he'll begin to grow up. The latter, coupled with his partying obsession, really makes anything more than just being roommates a bad idea. Deep down he's a fun-loving and warmhearted person who just needs some time to find his way._ When_, not if, he gets his act together someday, he will make some girl extremely happy and very lucky, but in the meantime, he has some ways to go.

As I grab my pillow and roll over I think about what I need to do the following day. I glance at my nightstand and see the copies of Stephenie Meyer's "New Moon" and Jules Verne's "20,000 Leagues Under the Seas". I just finished the latter but much rather would have been rereading the former before Edward came home. I have an exam in the morning and need to focus on the_ Nautilus'_ drama instead of his. I start running through the setting of ocean depths, the characters and their attributes and the developing plot line. Reading the book in high school really appealed to me, and it may have made me think about aquatic life a little more. Deep sea creatures are so fascinating, but then again, I digress, so are vampires, especially the Volturi or any other ones, for that matter, mentioned in the "Twilight" series I hear Edward sniff and hope he's not coming down with something, that's all I need. As my eyes become heavier, I reflect on Edward and his screw-up tonight. He meant well and I can't fault him for that. I know he's really a good person who just needs the motivation to change and the self-discipline to see it through... **zzzZZZ**

I'm moving, more like rocking, or ebbing forward. For some reason I find myself as Aro, but then I morph into Dr. Peter Aronnax and find myself on board the submarine with Caius, I mean Conseil. We've traveled many leagues and are entering deeper waters. Marcus, no, Captain Nemo is manning the_ Nautilus. _It's amazing down here. Look at the schools of fish. There are so many colors. There's a hammerhead shark, ooh, even a great white. Oh, that looks like a vampire squid; it's so cute and tiny. There's a slight movement against the rear area where the propeller is. Unexpectedly, I see an octopus; it might even be a giant squid or some other massive, tentacled creature. It begins to encroach into our space. It's now wrapping itself around the ship and trying to make its way inside of our vessel. Suddenly, I feel contractile appendages surrounding_ me_. The creature is tightening its hold. It has me trapped. I can't move my arms or legs and can barely breathe. The monster is squeezing the life out of me. Hopefully, it's getting ready to use its dye to escape us and not its venom to paralyze me. I continue struggling to breathe and break free. Just as I'm ready to concede and succumb to this animal's will, I feel another limb, a protuberance trying to gnaw its way into my backside. This is it; it's got to be the beak with its baseball-sized muscle trying to force its way into me. I feel it pecking. It will probably try to slice me up before eating me.

I feel myself trying to whimper faint sounds as I make peace with God. I know I've tried to be good and hope I don't end up_ down there_ with the other guy. Just as I have reconciled that this is it, the thing starts...licking me? I reason that it's about to take its first bite when I feel its emery-like skin rubbing against my back, five smaller appendages latching onto my right breast, and a very large one trying to poke through my…wait. What? Where am I? ... No, this is not happening.

As I stir from my nightmare still quite disoriented, I discover that Edward has completely wrapped himself around me like a starfish, or an octopus or a giant squid. He is still groping my boob but added to that is the dry grinding he's doing to my rear. I wonder if this will be like waking a sleepwalker and contemplate just letting him finish, but then I remind myself that this is_ my_ bed, and he is a guest in it.

"Edward…_Edward_…**_Edward_**…**Ed-Ward**!"

He finally startles, moves back then vaguely recognizes me.

"What happened."

"Nothing, thankfully."

"Huh?"

"Edward, you were trying to do me ... 'lazy doggie style'."

"What?"

"Edward, you latched onto me and wouldn't let go. I dreamed I was with Captain Nemo on board the _Nautilus_ and that you were a giant squid trying to eat me. You think_ you_ have fears; let me say that that spider has nothing on you. I was terrified. You held me so tight, I couldn't breathe; I thought I was going to die. I finally woke up when I felt you_ riding your junk_ up and down my back while you were grabbing my boob."

"How was I not aware of this? ... It must have been your pie."

"Did you throw it out?"

"Not exactly. I kind of ate what I could of it."

"The whole pie?"

"Pretty much."

"Edward do you feel okay?"

"Well, my heart's really racing. Why?"

"Depending upon a creature's size and the concentration of chocolate, an animal can succumb to theobromine poisoning. I don't think it's fatal in humans, but I'd lay off the coffee and Redbulls today. Also, I would stay close to the restrooms. Um you might need to pee a lot and have some intestinal discomfort."

"Oh ... okay. You mean I might shit my brains out?"

"Yeah, that's possible, what little of them you have left."

"Funny." He looks bewildered and concerned.

"What's the matter?"

"Um ... now, I'm scared."

"Come here."

I lay him down on the bed and put my ear to his heart. It's beating somewhat erratically with palpitations, but I think_ that_ has more to do with me waking him than the chocolate. At least I hope so.

"Do you think I'm going to die?"

He gives me a worried five year old's look, and it's really quite endearing.

"Sometime, but not today. Roll over."

He turns his back to me. I, in turn, reset the alarm for another hour of sleep for the us both and proceed to rub his head. By all rights I should kick his ass for molesting me, but I think we both need to calm down. I gently rub his head just like the countless times I've seen Esme do the same for him after he had bad dreams. He should be doing this for me, but somehow I find it just as soothing. As I drift off for a third time I wonder what kind of crazy adventure this day will bring Edward and me.

* * *

A/N:

As promised, here's the recipe for the pie.

**Bella's Triple Chocolate Cream Pie**

Ingredients

1- extra large graham cracker pie crust

2 - 3.4 oz packages of Jello brand Chocolate Fudge **cooked style pudding** (or comparable brand)

**This is IMPERATIVE: DO NOT USE INSTANT PUDDING!**

1 - 12 ounce bag of Guittard semisweet chocolate bits (or comparable brand)

3 - cups of 1% or higher fat content milk

1 - 16 ounce carton of whipping cream

1 - teaspoon of vanilla extract

1 - cup of sifted confectionary sugar (Add slowly to whipped cream to desired sweetness.)

1 - 60% dark chocolate bar

Directions

Prepare pudding as directed, but use 3 cups of milk instead of 4. Stir constantly; it will stick to the pan.

Remove from heat and immediately stir in the chocolate chips.

Pour the pudding into the graham cracker crust.

Let the pie cool until room temperature then refrigerate until cold.

Place a mixing bowl and beaters into the freezer to use for the whipping cream.

Meanwhile, take the 60% dark chocolate bar; unwrap it and place it on a piece of waxed paper.

Microwave it at 10% power for 10 seconds.

Take a potato peeler and shave chocolate curls from the edge of the bar into a bowl.

Repeat the microwave step if the chocolate crumbles instead of curls.

Refrigerate the curls.

About 15 minutes before serving, pour the whipping into the chilled bowl and whip it to the consistency of whipped butter using the chilled beaters.

Slowly add the sifted confectionary sugar. (You do not have to use a full cup: sweeten to taste.)

Once fully blended, add a teaspoon of vanilla, also slowly.

Fold the whipped cream onto the chilled pie.

Try not to touch the edges of the crust with it. (The crust may get slightly soggy if there are any leftovers.)

Sprinkle the chocolate curls over the whipped cream.

You may serve the pie immediately or refrigerate it.

* * *

_Enjoy in moderation; do not do an Edward!_

_Warning! This is a very fattening and extremely decadent dessert that will most likely elicit smiles and moans from your guests._

Send me your reviews on the chapter, the pie or otherwise.

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!

* * *

Review me your comments.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	4. Geometry 101

Welcome to PAD's dust speck

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Plane.

I just want settle onto her coordinate grid.

* * *

Geometry 101

* * *

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep …. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep …. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep …. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Short, rapid beats resonate in my ears. I wake to alarm clock sounds on what appears to be a dawning, January morning with the sun arcing its way over the straight angle of the horizon. The room smells really good in a familiar way, making me immediately think I scored last night and was in some "two-peat" or "three-peat" girl's dorm room. I glance over to see, if I have any regrets and need to make a stealthy getaway or, if the lone redwood I'm sporting can find its way into the forest again. As I turn to check out what I got myself involved with last night, I see shiny, brunette, umber waves splaying around an inviting set of pouty lips and a cute, smallish, freckled nose lying beneath a pale, slender forearm. That arm is a segment hiding pupil points within the cloistered irises of this intriguing coed presently eluding me. Her right palm is facing outward, and inside of it on her third finger is a half spun ring. The 180 degree mark displays a stone staring directly at me. I know that ring. I know that stone. I know that it's mocking. It's a rare, round, burgundy colored, star garnet found in Idaho, by the girl wearing it. I look downward as my mind's morning fog begins lifting and note that my swaying trunk is still standing. The disturbing realization becomes apparent; my perpendicular situation is interested in Bella. This immediately sends my heart beating into a tangent.

Right now, my panicked urge to leave is for an entirely different reason, but I don't want to wake her and have this turn into something awkward like last night. Oh God, last night, I can't believe I did that to her; but evidently, this, fine, upstanding part of me can. Maybe I can will it back down. Think Cullen … Grandma Platt's big, billowy, blowing underwear hanging outside to dry, Professor Stanley's ridiculously provocative clothing and incessant come-on to me last semester, the campus shuttle driver with the scraggly gray chin hairs and missing front teeth who eye fucks me every time I get on her bus...Yep, that one did it. _Whew_... Focus... I need to recap.

Bella,_ the_ one person, my age, whom I respect most in this world, let me sleep in her bed. This was after she knew I got high, not once, but a twice last night. It was also after I had no trouble getting to Sesame Street at the convenience store but had all kinds of trouble leaving because I couldn't remember the things I needed to get beginning with the letter C. (To maintain some preservation of my manhood, I gave her the abbreviated version, of course.) This was also after I divulged killing her probably beautiful, yet sinful chocolate concoction, _Heh, cock,_ minus the awesome whipped cream she would have put on it. Then I ate all of it because I just couldn't fathom throwing out a perfectly good only-crushed-by-human-placed-grocery-bags pie. This was also when I, subsequently, became freaked out about sharing my room with a beady-eyed, sharp-fanged, eight-legged small cat. (I'm not budging on that one either; that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.) She even allowed me to stay in her bed after I tried to dry hump her. Maybe I even tried wet hump her, too, because her pie made me so damn happy and unbelievably horny in my sleep that I didn't know any better. Even when said humping and extreme cuddling scared the hell out of her and me after her yelling, she let me remain in her bed. This was also after I got a bit apprehensive about the extreme hazards of non-temperance as it pertained to her cooking and how I would be in sufferance for it the next day. In layman's terms, I was scared shit-less over being a pig and possibly succumbing to a cardiac attack or my insides being turned out. But, even after all that, she still cared enough to check my heart, rub head and help me sleep.

As much as I would wholly enjoy staring at Bella's lines, angles and curves, there is just no way I am staying here, getting another hard-on and acting like an insensitive asshole. I know she has an exam today and will be rushed for time this morning. I'm going to do something nice...I'm going to make her breakfast.

* * *

A/N:

Next up is Bella's breakfast.

Reviews are like Bella's cooking; I can't seem to get enough of them.

Burgundy star garnets can pretty much be only found in Idaho and India. You can dig for your own in Idaho.

They look like Linde star sapphires but are purple to red in color variation. They are also Idaho's state gemstones.

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!

* * *

Review me your comments.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	5. The Colossus of Cullen

Welcome to PAD's mixing bowl.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight kitchen.

I just want to crack one of her eggs.

* * *

The Colossus of Cullen

* * *

**_Flump _**"Uh!"

_**eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**_

Piercing , pulsing , shrilly squeals awaken my sleep on a foggy, _sniff_, smoggy, **_sniff_**, no, smoky?, January morning. "What the hell?"

_**eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**_

I throw off my covers and race down the hallway. Just as my mind catches up with my body, I survey the kitchen, at least what I think is the kitchen.

_**eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**_

A gray, acrid cloud blankets the once familiar space, while a pan, set on high, still burns something - It looks like an omelet...with bananas and walnuts? I shake my head. If I didn't know better I'd think that that combination was the result of Edward still being high from the night before. My brain is operating in slow motion absorbing all of the details. A flat of eggs - two and one half dozen - minus what's in the pan and their shells are strewn across the tiles. Whatever is in the toaster appears to have caught fire. A plate of charred animal remains looking like what once resembled bacon is sitting on a plate. Edward's curled up form along with the runny mess is on the floor. Both of his hands are clamped onto his jewels. The stepladder perpetrator is lying next to him. I've seen enough.

_**eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee**_

I spring into action, right the stool, climb the steps, kill the smoke detector, open the window, turn off the burner, turn on the exhaust fan, cover the frying pan, tread over whites and yolks, go into freezer, and toss out a bag of frozen peas...at Edward.

"Thanks."

He gives me a painful "please-don't-be-too-pissed-at-me" smile while I stare in disbelief.

"I wanted to do something nice and make you breakfast."

Wait, what? Edward _cooked_? _Edward_ cooked. Edward _doesn't_ cook. Edward doesn't know _how_ to cook. I just glare at him with my "are-you-fucking-kidding-me?" sneer while I hyperventilate and try to shake the adrenaline coursing through me. I make my way to the front door and leave it open to evacuate some more of the billowing contents. Icing rain pelts at my flaming temper. I keep thinking about all of the things that will need to be done to get rid of the smell: washing curtains and clothes, shampooing rugs and upholstery, degreasing counters and cabinets, and painting walls and ceilings, as if I don't have enough to do. I start throwing stones from our gravel driveway into next door's vacant lot to dispel my excess frustration. After I've thrown everything I care to get my hands on, short of Edward, I breathe a few deep breaths and go back inside.

As I make my way back through our apartment I see that Edward has now recovered enough to have successfully paper-toweled the entire kitchen floor. He's literally boxed himself into the corner of the cabinets and now looks at me with that oh-shit-I-really-didn't-think-this-through-very-we ll-before-I-started- grimace. He's actually staring at the sea of printed white paper as if he's surrounded by sharks.

"Don't look at me like that Edward. You know I'll either give in and help or take up my mop and beat you with it." As much as I'd love to do the latter right now, I'm going to be late for my exam if I don't get going."

I hurriedly wash up, throw on clothes, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. I have no time, so I'm going commando today - free buffing below while no make-up above. Not really caring about my appearance, I grab my book bag and begin heading out.

I look up just as I'm ready to leave and hear his whining cries. Edward's on his hands and knees scrambling eggs and Bounty around the floor. He's like the walking dead as he gets up stiffly and proceeds carefully to the trashcan to deposit the soiled remains. You'd think he was handling dirty diapers by the expression he's sporting on his puckered face. He looks hilariously ridiculous with out-stretching arms and chicken-walking legs trying to the avoid yellowed albumen "jizz" oozing from the scooped up contents while still attempting to balance the bag of probably-now-slushy vegetables still concealed in his crotch. I better not find that bag back in the freezer. It was bad enough that his parts were rubbing against me earlier. I don't need to be thinking about his_ pods_ while eating those peas. I know I should have left already, but this is better than live comedy. He looks up and notices my full face grin.

"Here, catch!" He tosses me one of his protein bars he had out on the counter next to him that he normally keeps stashed in one of the cabinets.

"Thanks. Good luck with the kitchen. I, uh, should have been more understanding and appreciative of the effort that you put into to your, um, attempt to do this for me this morning."

He's putting on a good-humored expression even though I know he's crestfallen inside, and he knows I just can't refuse his begs for attention. He's like a yellow lab with sad green eyes; everyone's a sucker for him.

"Might I make a suggestion should you do this again?"

He nods for me to continue.

"Next time, start with cereal. If you want to learn how to cook, we can build up to it."

"Okay. Good luck with the test." He still sounds defeated.

I can't resist walking over to him after he keeps flashing his dejection. I rub my right hand over the side of his left cheek and feel him lean into my touch. I remove my hand then pull his tee-shirt collar to me. I kiss his cheek and linger for a moment over whether to carry-out my next action. _Ding, ding, ding._ Devil Bella wins the decision.

"Ow, **ow**,**_ ow_**,_** ow**_, **_ouch_**, **Bella**! What the **fuck**?"

Yep, he deserved it.

I grabbed his cheek and pinched it hard shaking his head back and forth then gave him a slap for good measure.

"The**_ fuck_** is that you will **never**, **ever** attempt to do something like that again until you've had proper instruction...and practice. Do you read me?"

"Yes_ mistress_, like a book."

He expels it sarcastically.

Hmm, _mistress_. That has a nice ring to it.

"Okay, can I trust you to stay out of trouble until I return this afternoon? I don't have to work today after class."

"Yeah, I'll behave. I think I'm too freaked out about _everything_ to try anything else."

"Good, on that note I'm out of here."

"Wait, one more thing, um, do you think you can help me with _the problem_ in my room today when you get back?"

"We'll see what we can do about that."

"Thanks. Later?"

"Later."

As I leave our place I realize that Rome wasn't built in a day...nor will the _Colossus of Cullen_.

* * *

A/N:

The Colossus of Rhodes was one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. It was erected in Greece between 292 and 280 B.C. and stood over 30 meters.

It's depiction was of the Greek Titan Helios, the Sun God whose handsome, chiseled form was often associated with a crowning, luminescent radiance and fiery horses.

The American Statue of Liberty was created with the Colossus' imagery in mind.

Just as Edward infuses some of his present coursework into his musings and ramblings, Bella continues doing the same.

* * *

Reviews are rays of light from Edward's crown. Beam me some.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	6. Rip Van Cullen

Welcome to PAD's frozen food aisle.

Stephenie Meyer owns the whole Twilight grocery franchise.

I just want Edward's bag of peas.

* * *

Rip Van Cullen

* * *

It's a good thing both of my morning professors cancelled classes today. Even though I have an evening one, I should have plenty of time to get my shit together before then. I know what you're thinking, what kind of nineteen year old heterosexual male schedules himself to take a class on Thursday nights? The answer is apparently the kind who's looking to pick up some unassuming, pre-party tail, that's who. It has been my observation that female, Thursday night students are much smarter and more driven in addition to being significantly more challenging, challenging as in ones who spark my keenly competitive interest while remaining invitingly more provocative than the girls who generally avoid evening classes all together. That being said, it's assured that Edward Cullen _never_ walks away from a challenge. With the pursuit of feline counterparts to look forward to tonight, I'm glad I don't have to make it out of here on time considering what I have to deal with at the moment.

I honestly can't believe I was that capable of the destruction I created in here just trying to cook breakfast for Bella. It took me over an hour just to pick up all of the broken eggs and mop down the floor. I don't know how Bella does the breakfast thing let alone the cooking thing seven days a week. I definitely have a new found appreciation for her given that most mornings she barely has enough time to clean up the kitchen, take a shower and do her hair. She's pretty amazing considering I'm only marginally coherent then.

Although I'm tempted, I can't just leave the mess; Bella wouldn't put up with it, and it would be a dick move on my part if I stuck her with it.

I sigh because I still have to do the coffee pot, frying pans, breakfast plates, glassware, ceramic mugs and some utensils. It would be easy to put them in the dishwasher, but at this point I am a little afraid of messing with another kitchen appliance. I don't need another Stooges, Lucy or Peter Griffin moment. I'm not up for any new challenges, at least not this morning, but I think I can handle washing them by hand.

I put in the stopper thing and squirt about a half cup of some dish goop into the sink before turning on the hot water. Goop. I snort because I hope my _goopshooter_ can recover before tonight. My nads took a pretty hard hit from the stepladder when I slipped and fell onto it this morning trying to yank the battery out of the smoke detector.

As I'm waiting for the hot water to fill, I go to the fridge to grab a drink and am way tempted to chug out of the jug but remember my conversation with Bella and think otherwise by grabbing a glass instead. As I'm putting back the milk I chose, I spy what Bella's probably cooking for supper - pork ... _tender-loins_. Could it be any more obvious that a higher power is messing with me.

"Uhgggh."

My stomach is starting to engage itself in some rampant gurgling, and I remember what Bella said about how eating that much of her pie could produce laxative effects. **_Rumble, Gurgle urrrrrrrrr_**. I bolt to the john in record time and evacuate more than I care to comment on at the moment but make note of it so I can share my bowl-filling conquest with the guys later. I even clean the basin and spray some Lysol before departing. Bella would be so proud.

I turn my attention back to the kitchen. What was I doing again? Dishes. "Oh shit, the sink! "

Suds are now _rabidly_ frothing over the top of the counter and down the front of the cabinets. I kill the water and grab a dish rag to beat down the soap. White, compact bubbles shoot upward attacking me. God this is way too much effort just for a lousy breakfast. I wonder if any of the greasy spoons around here do pancake or omelet deliveries.

I delve my sponge into the sudsy abyss to start cleaning the dishes. Yikes, that water's hot! I add a little more from the cold spigot to even things out then I start washing. Wow these plates are real slippery. It reminds me of "dog slime" when I used to clean our retriever's water dish. I'm still washing and figure I'll rinse everything at once. I continue my digressing and think about how many times I've overheard Mom and Bella making fun of my domestic incompetence. Contrary to what they think I have paid a little attention to what goes on in a house. I know how to take out the trash and sort things needing to be recycled. I also know how to heat water, too.

I know this because I used to boil my football jock strap when I was in high school. Those things can get really nasty, and let's just say I value some of _my parts_ more than others. When my mom found out what I had been doing during the whole season, it "squicked" her out so much she "Salvation-Armied" away her thousand dollar cookware set just because she couldn't stand the thought of my _anatomy_ coming in contact with her cookery.

I get a twinge of pain, and think it's time to finally pull out the green pea ice pack from my boxers and sweatpants. It's kind of a squishy mess now, and I briefly consider placing it back in the freezer just to get a rise out of Bella which, in turn, sometimes gets a rise out of...Well, you catch my drift. I'm bad, so what can I say...

Litigate me.

Sometimes our bantering awakens _Rip Van Winkie_. It's because Bella's way hot when she gets pissed, and sometimes I do stupid shit just to get her going so I can rub one out. Rip Van Winkle was a lazy fuck with a nagging wife. She just wanted some cooperation from her deadbeat husband._ Yes, I see the irony_, but the major difference is that I don't want to get away from Bella. I love it when_ all_ of her gets provoked because then _parts_ of me get evoked. It's a win, win. She lives for and loves laying into me. There's just something really stimulating about an enraged Bella which in turn gives me _something raging_.

"Ow!" I get another pang of pain which brings me back to its cause. I consider myself lucky. I thought that that stepladder was going to do me in earlier. My nads are still pretty sore, and it hurt like hell after I slipped and fell.

When I could finally open my eyes I looked up to see Bella just as she came in and took charge. Even as I lay in excruciating pain I absorbed her dominating presence. She sped around the kitchen like a fuck hot heroine straight out of an erotic comic book: hair flowing, hands flying and tits swaying. The only thing missing was bright neon spandex and Jimmy Choo shitkickers. If I wasn't in so much pain, I'm sure my_ Washington Monument_ would have made an appearance.

"Ssssssss." I suck in the hiss as there's more pain. Cullen stop thinking about sensuous details and focus on the dishes... I begin rinsing the things I washed and am nearly done. I pick up Bella's red plates, the ones that are the color of her fuckme-Friday-night lipstick. Alluding to a Jeopardy reference I quip, "Alex, I'll take 'Carnal Pleasures' for a thousand." Just then _my man downstairs_ decides he wants to join the party again.

"Mother fffffuuckker! " I moan. Geez Cullen shut your horny ass down and just focus. God my balls hurt. I hear the front door and jingling keys. I turn quickly when the last slippery plate slides out of my hands. **_Smash!_**

It hits the tile I just cleaned.

"Hey! Well look at you. Don't you just look the part of a domiciled divo.

I give her the one-eyebrow raise and my "are-you-shitting-me" expression.

But, I also feel compelled to now divulge that I'm wearing one of Bella's frilly French maid type aprons and have a clothespin pinning my messy hair up and away from my forehead. I'm also sporting bare feet, dish pan hands and dried suds in my hair.

_Good times_.

* * *

A/N:

A divo is the male equivalent of a diva.

Rip Van Winkle is a story by Washington Irving. Rip, a lazy SOB, takes some cool-off time away from his nagging wife, climbs up mountain, helps carry a keg, watches some silent guys play a variant of bowling, drinks their liquor then sleeps it off for twenty years.

* * *

Reviews are like tickling soap bubbles.

Make me laugh, and blow me some.

* * *

Next up: Edward's Bedroom.

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	7. Speechless in Seattle

Thank you goes out to the great and wonderful Bornonhalloween for opening her flood gates of initial support and for her rec'ing of me on Facebook.

Also, special thanks goes to SunflowerFran3759 for her friending and rec'ing of me on Facebook.

* * *

Welcome to PAD's half-eaten potato chip bag.

Stephenie Meyer own's the entire Twilight factory making them.

I just want a little of her salt to go with my vinegar.

* * *

Speechless in Seattle

* * *

A river runs through me, literally - I'm not donning any underwear. As ridiculous as Edward looks right now decked out in my apron and a clothespin, there's nothing hotter than him doing housework. And, let's be honest here. This is Edward we're talking about. As smart as he is, I'm not sure he can find his way out of a paper bag sometimes, but to see him amidst a mopped floor - albeit now one with broken pottery shards - and a full drain board of clean dishes, well let's just say I wouldn't presently be opposed to his earlier groping and grinding.

I see that look in his eyes, the one that says, "Okay Bella, I have truly been emasculated enough for one day and am ready to call it quits"

look, and know when to stop the ribbing as he really does put up with a lot of it from me.

I grab the dust pan and broom then proceed to sweep up the leavings.

As I pick up a large piece, my fingers glide over a slippery residue.

"Um Edward, how much detergent did you use?"

"A half cup, why?"

I hide my horror and force a smile.

"No reason." I grit it nonchalantly through my teeth.

I know I'll be redoing these sometime soon but not in his presence. That much soap for one sink even when rinsed can cause liver dysfunction or blood poisoning among other things. I learned in marine biology that there are tons of chemicals left from detergents that linger even when rinsed. I fear the look I'll get from him if he knows he did them incorrectly. The important thing is, is that he tried. I will not marginalize his efforts. That would be a major buzz-kill not to mention an emphatic future deterrent for getting him to assist me in daily housework.

"Um, I'll be right back. I need to pee then we can start on your room and maybe wash the curtains to get some of the smoke smell out. I'll shampoo the couch, rug and living room chairs while you're in class tonight."

He gives me a bewildering look, whereas previously, he'd be high-fiving me and running out the door because I let him off the hook from chores.

"Bella, I created the situation; _please_ let me help rectify it."

"Okay." I say it a little shakily and somewhat taken aback. Where is _my_ Edward; was he abducted by aliens while I was out? We live really close to Alaska and all of their extraterrestrial activity. I make a mental note to start an inquisition of questions only the real Edward and I would know the answers to.

"Bella, it's only fair; you've always been there for me and do so much. I'm a real douche sometimes and take advantage of you. It's only right that I pitch in considering it was my fuck up to begin with. Please let me help."

His sincerity busts through the dam, and now my river has just found another tributary.

I leave the kitchen then grab a pair of panties out of the dryer and make my way to the bathroom. I see the Lysol out on the vanity and do a double take, a spotless john? Well, I'll be. Edward cleaned the toilet, sprayed air freshener and put the seat down.

"Ouch!"

I just had to pinch myself.

It's a good thing I haven't already put on fresh bikinis. He's just full of surprises today. I always knew he would come around sometime, but I didn't think he'd start listening to me so soon.

Awe, I'm getting warm and fuzzies; he actually listened to me.

I've got to mark this one on the calendar and let Esme know - our "wittle" boy is growing up.

I return to the kitchen just as Edward is wiping down the sink. He's taken out the clothespin and off the apron. He's also slipped on some Chuck's and combed out the soap.

He really is a cutie. I've already spoken of his green eyes but failed to mention they rival that of a lush, Hawaiian tropical mountainside with morphing color that always creates new kaleidoscopic patterns.

Did I lay that on a little, too thick?

Seriously though, he has mood rings for irises. You never get the same effect twice.

His hair, well that's something else entirely. It presents itself as a coppery, contradictory organized chaos. But, as strange as that sounds, it just works well for him.

If he wasn't so much like a brother, I'd want to jump his ass or maybe let him jump mine. On second thought, back up and nix that. As beautiful as he is, he's still Edward; and I need to snap out of it. There's no other explanation...I must be ovulating.

"Well, are you ready to start?"

"Sure. Tell me what to get."

Edward takes out the vacuum and shampooer. Surprisingly, we actually do a really great job together in near companionable silence. Both of us have our tunes piped through unmistakable white earbuds, yet despite our differing noise we read each other quite well and manage to shampoo the furniture and the rug then agree to wash the curtains later.

Edward took my direction really well and actually did most of the shampooing. I actually think he got off on doing it...well, not that kind of _off_, but you know what I mean.

It's already two o'clock so I make us some lunch before hitting Edward's bedroom. I'm careful to avoid using the dishes, cups and silverware Edward washed earlier, and he appears none the wiser. I made him a turkey and roast beef sub with vegetable works and freshly made creamy garlic dressing. He broke open a bag of salt and vinegar chips then lifted the lid of his sandwich and proceeded with careful placement of them atop the sandwich's contents before smashing the lid down and taking a bite rivaling that of a great white.

He really is fun to watch sometimes and just lives for food...among other things. I love the childlike expressions he displays whenever I make him something he exceedingly enjoys, and his oh's and ooh's and ah's make it even more worthwhile to cook for him. He never takes me for granted in that respect and is ever grateful I feed him well.

"Thanks Bella, that was incredible as always. Muwah!"

He plants his trademark, messy kiss on my cheek. I think he got this from doing it to Esme. He's always been quite the charmer, and when he showed his appreciation that way towards her, _she_ would be eating out of _his_ hands. Edward knew this too, slick little devil that he is. But I know his game, and he knows I know it too. So he doesn't try to hide behind his witchery with me.

"Are you ready to start your room?"

"Sure, um, do you want to go in there first to see if the, um, problem is visible?"

"Okay."

I oblige him without condescension. I know how debilitating his phobia is and would never ridicule him over it.

When Edward started grade school there was a day the kids were absolutely merciless towards him. The first, and only, time he allowed himself to be teased was then when we were in kindergarten. This transient kid, James, brought a tarantula in for show and tell and proceeded to place it on top of Edward's head. The class laughed so hard over the mean prank that it sent Edward screaming out of the room in tears. I ran into the boys room after that and stayed there with him for over an hour rubbing his head and holding him close until they could track Esme down to come pick him up.

I went back into class afterward and laid into everyone, even the teacher, Mrs. Higginbothem, which was kind of weird considering she was mom. (Before she was hired, my mom used her maiden name so it wouldn't seem weird when someday she would be teaching me.) There was just no call for that kind of cruelty, and I was real mad at my her for letting things get out of hand.

After that I could still see Edward break sweat and breathe deep whenever an arachnid was near, but he always manned up when others were watching. I understood. Spiders to Edward were like snakes to me. If ever one were to cross my path, Edward would eradicate the situation and humanely dispose of said creature. We always took care of each other in that way. That's why I'll always feel compelled to help him.

I make my way through the hall and open his door. What the... I don't think anything has ever rendered me this...completely...speechless.

* * *

A/N:

Next up, are you really ready for what's in Edward's bedroom?

* * *

Review me your words.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	8. The Den of Cullen

Welcome to PAD's garbage can.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight landfill.

I just want to borrow one of her twist-ties.

* * *

The Den of Cullen

* * *

The feeling I'm getting is one of sheer and utter horror.

I should invite, Wes Craven, John Carpenter and George Romero to film their next movies in here. On second thought, that may not be such a good idea. They just may lose their casts...and crews.

There are many different forms of assault, and right now, I think I feel all of them. The smell is unbelievable. I pull my turtleneck up over my nose. I should have taken that Hazmat class I wanted to last semester. Who has a good biohazard suit when you need one? Charlie, my dad who's chief of police in Forks, which is where Edward and I are from, wanted to send me gear for doomsday prepping. I should have taken him up on his offer.

I start slow as I pan the room, careful to get the full effect. My senses are on overload: the one I use to smell with as well as the one I use for reason.

Tell me, why did I agree to this again, the spider, right? If that little arachnid knows what's good for her, she would do best to stay away, that is if she hasn't already expired.

How could Edward ever let his room get this bad?

The first thing that hits me is the smell of smoke - not cigarettes, mind you, but weed. This is no surprise; knowing how much Jasper and Edward toke-up means that resin is probably embedded into the walls by now.

Next, I can't ignore the unmistakable essence of festering stale beer infused with a male-related, non-specific, putrid-funk that one would only associate with a nineteen-year-old boy's dorm room, or in this case, Edward's room in _our_ apartment. _Sniff_. Ah, no college guy's room would complete without the unequivocal smell of "Jagermeister" vocalizing its fifty-six herbs and spices – all of which, right now, are competing for recognition. "Jagermeister", the translation can mean game warden, and in looking around this room, I certainly hope we won't need one. Maybe Edward was kidding about the _small cat_, but there's a lot of shit in here. I wouldn't be a bit surprised if a raccoon snuck in and was taking up residence under all this debris.

I don't know where to begin.

In one corner there has to be at least two whole recycling machine's worth of "Monsters", "Rock Stars", and "Red Bulls" piled neatly and stacked meticulously like interlocking "Legos". A dichotomy exists in the other corner as there has to be the equivalent of about eight shopping carts of strewn empties: "Heineken", "Sam Adams", and" Guinness". I furrow my brow. Upon closer inspection, I actually see a shopping cart buried underneath them.

I shake my head in disbelief.

You know when you are about to have something really bad happen to you and everything appears in slow motion?

That's happening now.

I can absorb all of these minute details in milliseconds.

I think I'm going into shock….

There are also dozens of spent vodka bottles lined up like bowling pins: "Skyy", "Stoli", "Smirnoff" and "Goose". He must have had help. There's no way he's polished off all of these by himself. He's probably had parties here on the nights I stayed at Rose and Alice's place. I thought the apartment smelled strange during those weekends. Edward must have had some of his conquests clean-up so I wouldn't lay in to him. They must have only done the kitchen, living room and bathroom, as clearly no one's removed anything from in here.

I haven't been in Edward's room since we moved in over five months ago. He keeps his door closed, as do I. We each respect the other's privacy. It's better this way. Although our walls are not as thick as I would like them to be, they are walls. And I'm just glad to not have had all of the visuals that helped make this mess. This explains why I haven't seen any female visitors lately. To be honest, I don't even see how he finds room to sleep, himself, let alone entertain anyone else.

He has nearly the entire contents of his closet, suitcases, dressers, and laundry bins thrown about - clean mixed with dirty. There are piles of heaped clothes, too, ones resembling beaver lodges or Apache wigwams. He didn't have this many clothes when we first moved here...that's interesting. Some of them still have brand new tags.

There isn't a bare surface to be found. About a third of our dinner, glass, and silverware have made their way in here. Some have growing, unidentifiable contents still glued to them.

I wrinkle my nose remembering the can of whipped cream.

The floor has to have a least three thousand sheets of crumpled notebook paper and probably five boxes of used Kleenex thrown down on it. I know Edward was mildly sick about a month ago with some sniffles, but that wouldn't warrant this much tissue. As my eyes rove across the bed I see an institutional-sized pump of hand lotion on his nightstand along with five tubes of spent lube…

I shudder as I connect the usage.

Moving on, I see the partial reason for said use. A quick count reveals about five years' worth of "Hustler", "Playboy", and "Penthouse" magazines in addition to those really raunchy titles they keep sheathed behind the counter at the convenience store. Speaking of sheathed, I see about two gross, that's twenty-four dozen, opened, empty condom packages, which have rained down on Edward's carpeting. The thought of two hundred eighty-eight used condoms just in here alone is kind of gross. At least he used condoms; I need to give him props for that otherwise, the wrappers wouldn't be the only thing raining down.

I hesitantly look up at the ceiling and breathe a sigh of relief that there are no visible signs of stains. I realize that Edward would have to have super sperm-shooting capabilities, but after seeing his castastrophe-producing prowess, I would not rule anything out.

I need a drink.

I walk over to Edward's mini-fridge and open the door.

"Oh my God, what the hell is that smell?"

If they could can the methane emissions from an NFL locker room, this is what they'd smell like. Are those peeled boiled eggs? They're gray. Sitting next to them is what I think used to be a mushroom, sausage and broccoli pizza that now resembles mowed-over road-kill. Oh my God, that isn't what I think it is; is it? Edward has what appears to be about ten, used, knotted condoms in the condiment section. I've seen enough and close the door.

I need air.

"Ha, ha, ha, ha, Bella, you should see your face; you're turning green." He has the audacity to laugh.

That's it. I go in back of his door, grab his Lacrosse stick and proceed to start beating him with it.

"Are you… **_whack_** …out of your… **_whack_** …fucking mind… **_whack_**?

"Bella stop, stop; uncle, uncle, I give!"

I drop the stick and pull him by his sideburns to inches in front of me.

"You're just lucky I chose not to grab your nine-iron and do an Elin Woods on you!

"**Ow**, **ow**, **ouch**, Bella! **Fuck**, you've got my attention!"

"Good. I'm going into the kitchen to get a drink and some garbage bags. I don't see any signs of _your intruder_ so you should be okay. When I get back _you_ will be cleaning this room. Are we clear?"

"Crystal."

"Okay…and please, **open a fucking window!**

I go to the kitchen still seething and realize I need to calm down. Without thinking I grab one of Edward's washed glasses for a drink of water.

_Blech._ I immediately spit out the soapy contents and proceed to rinse my mouth out for another minute. Why me? Why did I agree to this? I grab the warehouse-sized box of fifty-five gallon contractor's garbage bags and briefly step outside for a few deep breaths before going back into his room. I reflect back to Charlie's earlier offer. If nothing else, a gas mask would have been nice. Now a bit more composed, I tread back to the dreaded room.

"Edward, I think you ought to start with your floor first. Pick up as much as you can get to without moving everything. Start with all the paper."

"Yes ma'am."

I clear off a spot on Edward's bed to sit and watch. Surprisingly, Edward does a pretty quick job of picking up the all the paper. I've got to hand it to him for being resourceful; he grabbed a show shovel and leaf rake from the hall closet and actually used them to pick up the mess. One whole garbage bag later yields a carpet underneath.

"Good job."

He gives me that adorable smirk and partial eyebrow raise, the one that says, "See, I bet you didn't think I was capable."

"What next Bella?"

"How about getting rid of the bottles and cans?"

He gives me a pout.

"Go on." I gesture.

"Um, Jasper and I were going to build a fort with the cans."

I blink a few times trying to process what I think I thought I heard.

"Edward, when you finish college, grad school and your doctoral program, you can build yourself a man-cave. Until that time I think it's wise that you concentrate on your education and not on the acquisition of excess stuff."

It's a good thing there's only eight months in a school year and that kids are expected to move out of the dorms after each one. It's ridiculous how much crap students accumulate. If Edward and I are going to be living here for four years, there is no way I'm letting him shit up our apartment like this ever again.

"Okay." He looks sad.

"Edward, if it's any consolation, bugs like to live in cans. They happen to be the chief diet for spiders - more cans equal more bugs, which equal more spiders."

"Say no more."

An hour later, Edward has completely removed all of the energy cans, vodka bottles and beer empties. He really can work when he's motivated. It's actually starting to smell better in here already. He's still going to have to vacuum and shampoo the rug to get the drink stains out as well as ones caused by spilled, stale bong water. I think he can handle this, though, seeing what a good job he did in the living room earlier.

"Edward, I need to start dinner. Do you think you are good in here? I haven't seen any remnants of your 'guest'. Maybe she hitched a ride outside with the cans."

"Hopefully, you're right. Hey, um, I saw you have pork in the fridge for supper. It will keep until tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah, it should be fine, why?"

"Can I order in for you? I took up a lot of your time today, and it would only be fair."

"Sure, that would be nice. I am a little tired after the drama of the last eighteen hours. Order anything but pizza."

I can't shake the visual of the one still in Edward's fridge.

"Is Chinese okay?"

"That will be fine just as long as you put your leftovers in the kitchen refrigerator, and please clean yours out before you go to class tonight. I won't sleep knowing that that stuff is in there. I'll give you a box of baking soda to absorb the odor in there, too."

"Thanks Bella."

"We can start on the clothes tomorrow. I get out of class at 11 a.m. and don't have to work until 3. There isn't much left to tackle except for that."

"Sure that will work."

Edward punches in our order on his cell phone and then turns to me. He opens his arms.

"Come here."

His embrace is like being hugged by a tree, but it's… nice. He really does give great hugs. I could stay like this for hours as he rocks me from side to side like a wind-blown fir.

"Mmmmmm." It's all I can offer.

"You really are the best friend I could ever have."

I pull back to see his eyes.

"What about Jasper?" Edward and I have both known Jasper as long as we've known each other.

"Let me put it this way:

You are the glistening maraschino cherry atop my melted ice cream sundae.

You are my brilliant warming sun after a week of frigid steady rain.

You are my first breath of fresh air after rescue from a collapsed mine.

You are the majestic purple mountain next to my brown pile of rubble.

You are my voice of reason sweetly whispering when I become the fool.

You are the one who thwarts the worst of everything to bring out the best in me..."

I blink back tears. How does he do this?

"Bella, Jasper will always be my best guy friend, but he could never be you..."

I put my head on his shoulder, and he gently kisses my forehead.

"I can never thank you enough for just being Bella."

"With that remark, I don't think you can say anything else tonight to make it get any better. You're welcome, Edward; and thank you, too."

With that last exchange we make our way into the kitchen to await our food.

Edward's still going to screw up, and I'll still get pissed at him for doing it; but something's different.

I can only hope that it's a good thing.

* * *

Your reviews will be like Edward's clean carpet; let me curl my toes into some.

* * *

A/N:

The word den has the following meanings -

1. the lair of a wild, usually predatory animal

2. a. (1) a hollow cavern used especially as a hideout

(2) a center of secret activity

b. a small usually squalid dwelling

3. a comfortable usually secluded room

The origin is Middle English from Old English _denn_; akin to Old English _denu _valley, Old High German _tenni_ **threshing** floor.

Courtesy of Merriam Webster

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD


	9. Not So Jolly Green Cullen

Welcome to PAD's Life and Casualty policy.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Insurance Company.

I just need to purchase one of her riders.

* * *

Not So Jolly Green Cullen

* * *

Our food was delivered pretty quickly, but the wait gave me enough time to take a shower and do what Bella asked, which was to rid my fridge of its unsavory contents. I was a bit bummed about tossing the sperm - as I wanted to bring the collection into my organic chemistry lab to test the samples for subtle differences in their chemical compositions, given the fact that each time I jacked off it was a few hours after I ingested different food stuffs like: beer, vodka, six boiled eggs, a quart of o.j., a few protein shakes, two pints of ice cream, and the like. I know it wasn't going to be a truly perfect scientific representation, but I wanted to gain some understanding of the changes in seminal fluid variants when ingesting certain things. I could see Bella's point, though; it was kind of gross after I thought about it.

I ordered copious amounts of Asian cuisine from a new restaurant specializing in super spicy dishes. Bella was thankful to just have her cashew chicken and peanut pork favorites along with her vegetable sides. I ordered saliva chicken, – yes, that is the real name because it forces your mouth to water – Hunan spicy beef, Hunan Gan guo with pork and shrimp, and Dan dan noodles. I ate dinner with the gallon of milk I bought last night right next to me on the kitchen table and a box of Kleenex. I also had a workout towel wrapped around my neck to wipe my face and brow. That shit was so **hot**! Bella just sat back with a huge grin on her face enjoying every bit of my self-imposed agony while she nibbled on her choices. As I'm sitting in class now, I remember her casual comments:

"Edward, why do you order such spicy food when, clearly, it pains you to eat it?"

I give her my reply.

"Bella you fail to see the value of voluntary torture. It's building my character as well as probably putting some hair on my chest."

She gives me back her reply.

"Well, I suppose the character building could do you some good, but don't eat too much of it. I don't need to be vacuuming up Sasquatch all over the apartment.

"Cute." It's all I can muster to give her in rebuttal.

This day has really kicked my ass and my balls. I am so glad I slept with Bella last night, well not with Bella, but in her bed. I always need a decent night's rest before an exam, and even though there is only a quiz tonight, I'm glad I got sleep despite the pie and the spider. I'm shuddering just thinking about how that thing could still be lurking around in my room.

As I'm sitting here in my Intro to Film Studies class, I can't help but smile at Bella's attempts to tame my wild eating habits. Sometimes I order things I really abhor just because I like nettling her. This is really stupid and immature on my part because I experience the wrath twice: once when going in and then when coming out. Needless to say, I will be choosing the softer of the two couches we have in our living room to sit down on tomorrow and maybe the next day.

We are just about ready to start class. I took a seat all by myself to capture the attention of any interested girls. I have exceptional peripheral vision so I can easily assess which ones are checking me out. I sit by myself to also present an unassuming posture. If I were to just take a seat next to the hottest girl, I would come off as being too desperate or a real player. I need to let one come, and so she shall - if I'm on my game tonight.

I can handle three hours of class, but it's a bitch not being able to check my messages. If I can't score with anyone in here, I need a back-up plan in place. Our professor is a real hard-ass and actually docks people grade points for cellphone use in his class. I definitely don't want to diminish my perfect GPA for a little impatience. This is only our second session, so there should be a few fresh faces in here tonight courtesy of "adds and drops".

I give a quick glance to the door and pretend to be grabbing a pen out of my knapsack when my brain registers my challenge for the evening. A stunning redhead walks in with fiery flowing ringlets and sparkling sky blue eyes. I assess that she's 5'8", 130 lbs, and a 36 D…nice.

_Ouch_, I wince. The boy below my belt starts to take notice. _Shit_, evidently things still aren't quite right down there, but my flinching may be garnering some positive attention for my negative situation. I never really thought about it before but playing this kind of sympathy card can definitely have its advantages.

She observes my discomfort and starts walking towards the empty seat next to me. Wow, this helplessness ploy really gets notice; I have to remember this. I continue with my nonchalance towards her as she addresses me.

**_Catch_**

"Is this seat taken?"

"No, not at all, here, let me move my stuff." I continue to lay-on my pain face as I lift my book bag."

"Oh, what happened; are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. I had to climb a stepladder this morning to kill a smoke detector, but while I was doing it I slipped and ended up falling and straddling the ladder at the same time."

She clenches her teeth and scrunches her eyes acknowledging my predicament.

"Oh, you poor thing!"

"I'm fine, _really_, though I'm a little tender."

"Well, _Little Tender, _I'm Orri, short for Victoria. It's nice to meet you."

I choke a bit at her words and grab a cough drop to cover her perceiving me to be off guard.

_I wonder if Orri gives good oral_.

"Actually my name is Edward, but I can assure you there is nothing miniscule about me."

"I'll keep that in mind."

**_Run_**

I quickly redirect our conversation as I can't appear too eager. I ask her about the syllabus and whether she purchased the text. She indicates to me that she's already seen the movie but hasn't bought the book yet so I let her speed read my text and check out my notes. We'll have to discuss the movie we watched last week before taking our quiz tonight.

As she's reading she's twirling her hair giving a clear sign she's interested, and I catch a whiff of what I assume - judging by the visible bottle in her bag - is her Burberry scent as it wafts towards me. It's pleasant enough, and she really does "rock her goods"; though, something is off. She definitely doesn't smell as good as Bella. Bella smells delicious without even trying - like something akin to chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon. God, my mouth is watering just thinking about her; she's like a giant cookie. Reflecting on last night I think I remember actually licking her because she smelled like one. Bella's bed was really nice and comfortable, too. I especially liked cuddling with her and haven't done that since we were sophomores in high school when we went winter camping in a tent but ended up shivering our asses off. Maybe we can do that again sometime – the cuddling and the camping, not the shivering.

"Are you in there?"

"Huh?" Orri is waving her hand in front of me.

"I think I lost you for a minute."

"Sorry. I just got a little distracted thinking about my roommate and what I have to do tomorrow."

"Well, tomorrow is tomorrow; do you have any plans for tonight?"

Please hold your applause until the ceremony is over. Disabled Cullen is a genius.

"No, I don't really have any plans. There are a few parties I could check out, but it's kind of been a long day, and I don't think I should do any serious walking tonight."

"If you're interested, I wouldn't mind showing you my appreciation for lending me your assistance, and I promise to be very gentle."

_**Score**_

"That's really not necessary; I'm just glad to help out. I'd feel like I was taking advantage of you."

"No, I would definitely not feel like I was being taken advantage of, and besides, I always pay my debt."

"Well, in that case, I guess I can't say no without offending you."

"You guess correct."

We continue on with our class, the discussion and our quiz. Orri and I are both pretty sure we aced it. I agree to follow her to her place citing that my room is undergoing reconstruction and preparation for vacuuming and shampooing tomorrow, which earns me further brownie points with her.

I pull up to her quad complex and hold open her car door. She shows her appreciation by kissing me on the cheek.

"You're such a gentleman."

"What can I say, my parents raised me well?"

I also grab her main door, man the elevator and use her room keys.

"It isn't much, but it is home for now at least until the end of the semester."

"It's nice." It's simple and adequate enough for a college year, but I can't help but think of how Bella's really made our place so much more like a home as opposed to an apartment or a dorm room and am really thankful for that.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"Sure, whatever you're having will be fine."

"Is vodka okay? I have grapefruit, cranberry, or orange juice."

"Orange juice is great."

She pours me a sixteen ounce drink and makes one for herself, and judging by the liberal use of her bottle of Smirnoff Blue_,_ both appear to be very strong. Ordinarily, I wouldn't care, but I really don't want to get drunk and attempt to drive home tonight, or do I want to be even mildly hungover to work on my room with Bella tomorrow.

Don't get me wrong, I really want some action. Orri's very beautiful, but for some reason I feel conflicted as my heart is not really into to this tonight. I'll just see where things go….

I'm seated on her couch and take a few sips of my drink while she downs about half of hers. She peels off her sweater, unclasps her bra and grabs both of my hands placing them onto her breasts. She then yanks my belt buckle and tears into my trinity_ ..._ so much for foreplay. I'm still sore, but I play through the pain. She starts kissing my lips while she's jerking me off. Her other hand starts grabbing and clawing at my hair ... so much for gentle. Son of a bitch, that hurts. I try to concentrate on extracting some pleasure from this escapade but am finding it increasingly difficult to enjoy. I grasp her nipples sharply in retribution, but this just spurs her on even more. I try to focus on niceties like how Bella ran her fingers so gently across my scalp last night, but unexpectedly, Orri tries to vault me like I'm a pommel horse and lands squarely on my all-parts-male.

"_**Ahhhhhhh, Fuck that hurts!**_" I pick her up by her waist and plop her down on the couch trying to gain some control over my agony. It hurts every bit as much as it did early this morning, maybe even more. My eyes are watering like crazy, and I think I even see stars. I can barely breathe. She starts kissing me again, and I've had enough. Orri, you're very beautiful, and if I wasn't in so much pain I wouldn't hesitate to continue this. I'm sorry; I really have to go.

"Oh come on Edward, spend the night; I'll behave." She gives me this she-devil incarnate look as I observe she's now sporting some sinfully-almost-non-existent panties in addition to her perfect D's. I'm so torn, but I have to leave. This woman is clearly dangerous."

"I can't. I may even need to go to the infirmary." I'm not kidding about this either.

I take a deep breath and tuck in my junk. I'm almost afraid of zipping but am more fearful of arrest for flashing.

"Edward, come on, at least let me give you a blowjob."

"Thank-you, no; I don't think I'm up for it, and I'm sorry it didn't work-out tonight."

There is no way this succubus is getting her mouth anywhere near that part of me. She's liable to bite it off.

"Well if I can't change your mind, I hope you'll give me a rain check."

"Sure." At this point I'll say anything just to get out of here."

I give a brief peck on her lips and hobble out the door. Thankfully she let me and isn't holding me hostage. Next week I am definitely sitting next to a guy in class; I don't care what kind of looks I get.

I gingerly climb into the Volvo and begin driving.

The pain is excruciating so I decide to stop at 7-Eleven and grab a bag of Green Giant frozen peas.

I see our building and say a silent prayer in thanks that somehow I managed to get home.

I pull into the driveway with all relief wiped clean.

Huh, that's a car I haven't seen before, and Bella's truck isn't here.

I try to use my key, but the door is unlocked. Bella always locks the door when she usually goes out for just one drink on Thursday nights. I go in very quietly and grab my baseball bat in the umbrella stand from behind the door. I creep around the living room corner and flick the switch to the light.

In one sudden movement I'm blinded but certain of what I see.

Bella is on the couch making out with some guy.

The next thing I realize is that a rapid, burly blur is flying towards me.

Quarterbacks rarely get hit this hard.

I'm not ready for it or am I padded.

My solar plexus collapses.

I can't breathe. My head hurts. My lights dim.

I think I'm going to need another bag of peas.

* * *

A/N:

Send our boy some reviews, love and concern. I think he's going to need it.

Thank you for reading.

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	10. The Cullen Conundrum

Welcome to PAD's Patron-less Bar.

Stephenie Meyer operates the Twilight Liquor Commission.

I just want her to grant me a permit so I can fill it up.

* * *

Thank you goes out to my faithful reviewers: acw1, Mercyus, Katherine1753, Rita01tx, Sunflower Fran, LadyOracle1, Daphodill, ilive2read, and StaceyW66 who have given me much encouragement and a lot of smiles.

* * *

The Cullen Conundrum

* * *

_Whew_. I can't believe the day I've had. Usually I'm well equipped to deal with any antic of Edward's, but today was especially trying. Even though I start class at nine o'clock tomorrow morning, I think I might just break my one-drink-on-Thursday-night rule and imbibe a little more this evening.

I decide I have enough time before I go out to do the curtains, and while they are washing I'll have time to "Swiffer" the kitchen walls, ceilings, and cabinets. I should probably "Febreeze" the living room, too, even though we just shampooed in there. Just before leaving, I'll toss the curtains in the dryer and turn up the heat to get the rest of the dampness out of the rug and couch cushions.

I told Rose and Alice I'd meet them at our usual hangout. I just want to let loose a bit and revel in the fact that Edward didn't burn out our apartment or get us evicted. I really am thankful for that miracle but given my dry streak, I would not have objected to a rescue from one of those hot Seattle firefighters even though he would have only had to carry me out the front door, as we thankfully live on the first floor. Luckily the smoke was contained just to us, but I'll do some extra baking for our neighbors upstairs anyway just to keep the peace in case they were put out by some funky air or the blaring alarm.

I love the Victorian apartment we live in with its huge windows and high ceilings. It has lots of room, too, but that's not necessarily a good thing, especially when someone like Edward takes additional liberties to acquire stuff to fill it up. We still have to tackle his bed, clothes, and closet, but he assured me he would be up for the challenge.

I am just pulling in to "Viol Rut", the place we're meeting at. I shake my head each time I see it. The shop responsible for the signage screwed up the spelling and painted in an "o" instead of an "a", but the owner just kept it. I muse inwardly every time I see it for two reasons. The first reason is that it is an anagram for Volturi. The second is because of what the words convey: vial/viol (aside from viol pertaining to a bowed stringed instrument) is Middle English for a small closed vessel for liquids like a flask, whereas, "rut" ordinarily pertains to a monotonous routine or worn track. However, what's funny to me is the fact that rut's primary definition means a period when mammals are sexually excited, especially those of male deer, or buck. In sum, "Viol Rut" is a drinking establishment where easily aroused men hang out.

I see the vintage yellow Carrera signaling that Alice and Rose are already here. They kind of have a thing going on between them right now, but I suspect they truly aren't gay but are merely experimenting. I met them both in different classes last semester and know them well enough to have learned that they've each had numerous boyfriends but have been quite dissatisfied with all things of that gender lately, citing that the university ought to offer guys classes on sexually pleasuring women. With the large number of ancient, waspy males on the college's curriculum review committee and the old, stale administrators on the approval board, I don't see that happening anytime soon.

I make eye contact with the girls as soon as I enter the bar. They are actively engrossed in tasting each other's lip glosses but not from the original respective containers, and it appears as though Rose and Alice have amassed a very interested male audience as a result of it. In other words, they've garnered the attention of many horny bucks.

I called them about five minutes ago so they could already have a round waiting for me, which I can see that they do. I know what you are thinking - _Shame on you, Bella -_ for calling or texting while driving. I assure you that I do no such thing. Edward made sure that I would not be technologically disadvantaged in having the antiquated Chevy truck that I still own, so he bought me a new stereo with Bluetooth for my birthday to go in it, so I could pipe in my iPhone and not have to worry about breaking the law, having an accident or missing anyone's call when dealing with my cell. He can be really sweet like that and surprises me from time to time with his thoughtfulness.

I love that he is so random sometimes, too, and just picks me up whatever he locks onto at the moment. If he goes past a thrift store or garage sale he looks for early edition fiction he knows I would like or interesting ephemera like old movie or concert posters I can frame. Other times he finds me bizarre hats, scarves or handbags I can wear. If he sees an unusual ethnic grocery or offbeat health food store, he'll buy me unique foods and spices to experiment with. He knows I love rare flowers and plants, as well, and that I collect interesting succulents for a little stone garden on our patio out back. When he goes to beach, he picks up the prettiest polished rocks. He's especially observant of ones shaped like hearts and has brought me back at least a dozen of them.

It's funny, but Edward just understands me. I mean Jasper does, too, but I think things just click better between the two of us. I guess we've spent so much time together that we, pretty much, know what the other is thinking. One thing about Edward is his attention to specificity. One would think that as disorganized as he appears he would be scattered; on the contrary, though, he's actually quite methodical. I don't know how his brain compartmentalizes stuff, but he has incredible recall of just about everything he has ever read, discussed, seen or heard down to the finest detail. It's pretty amazing.

"Hey guys."

"Hey girl," they reply in unison.

Just like her, Rose starts with the line of questioning.

"So, what's up Bella? Things must be pretty bad on the roommate front for you to be out so early and have us order you a shot of Patron with a mojito _and_ a margarita."

_Lick…salt…shot…suck…sip_…

I started my salvation ritual with the shot of Silver Patron, salt and lime and then sipped my margarita.

"Let's just say I've had an interesting twenty-four hours."

Alice pipes up, "Come on girl, share the goods."

The girls haven't met my roommate yet and keep pestering me about the "Conundrum of Edward Cullen". Maybe I'll invite them over on Sunday. Edward mentioned something about Jasper and Emmett - Edward's brother – coming over to hang out.

I proceed to retell the events of how Edward destroyed my pie, almost molested me, nearly burnt the apartment and could be harboring new species in his room, all in lurid detail….

Rose, the quipster she is, chimes in …. "And he's still alive? Bella, I would have killed him or at least given him some serious bodily harm. You're a saint!"

"Well, I did pull his facial hair and smack him around a bit, but I don't think it daunted him that much as he seems to enjoy it when I do things like that to him."

Alice has sat back until now and begins with her carefully composed philosophical comments.

"Syrus said, 'Amans, sicut fax, agitando ardescrit magis': A lover, like a torch, burns brighter when shaken."

"Huh?" Rose and I question at the same time.

"However, I think Virgil said it best. ' Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo': If I can't move Heaven, I'll raise Hell."

"Alice, what are you talking about?" I blurt.

"Don't you get it, Bella? _You _are Edward's heaven."

I feel panic starting to creep in. I've already finished my margarita and am halfway done with the mojito; I flag down the waitress for another round for myself. Edward can't care for me in that way, can he? What will this mean for us? We're best friends. Things could get really awkward. How do I feel about it or about him? I mean I love him but like a brother. Do I feel anything more? Well, it was really nice cuddling with him, and he smells scrumptious - all musky and woody and sweet. He did a great job vacuuming and shampooing. He, at least, tried to do the dishes. He's incredibly intelligent, and with the right direction, he's highly trainable. It feels pretty wonderful when he crushes himself into me with his all-enveloping hugs. I love his laughter and his smile.. they're so infectious. He's quite sincere and does some truly considerate things for me. He's the epitome of handsome with that gorgeous face and graspable body. His rubicund hair and quetzal-colored eyes create the perfect balance of complementary colors. Could I see myself being with Edward in that way? ….

_Oh Shit!_…. Alice has to be wrong. She'll see that we have absolutely no chemistry between us ….

I nearly rip my drinks out of the waitress' hands. "Thanks." I offer up to her.

_Lick…salt…shot…suck…sip_

"Whoa girl, take it easy." Rose warns.

"I'm good." Actually I'm not, but I try not to let on. "Hey, are you girls busy this Sunday around two o'clock; do you feel like coming over? Edward's going to be there along with our friend Jasper. Emmett, Edward's brother will also be there, too. They usually, just come over to chill and eat. I usually cook way more than the guys polish off, and I know you've been dying to meet Edward and are just as curious about Jasper."

"Well it's about time Bella." Rose barks.

"Yeah, I was wondering whether we were ever going to meet the infamous Cullen man-boy." Alice adds.

I'm so confused right now. The alcohol is not helping to clear my brain any, but I don't need to be thinking about how fucked up this situation could turn out to be if Alice's observations are right. Tonight, I don't want to think.

I finish the next margarita and start working on the mojito.

"Excuse me."

The sound isn't female, and I look up towards the words directed at me. _Holy Shit!_ There's a deep male voice talking to me attached to a large, hot body. It's not Edward, but it's hot enough to make me forget about Edward for the time being. The body's got short black hair is exceedingly tall and extremely muscular. It also has a Mediterranean skin tone, very dark eyes, and is quite good looking. He's wearing a gray button down shirt and grey stone-washed jeans. _Yum, who needs Seattle firefighters_?

"I couldn't help but to notice you from across the room. I thought you might be a friend of mine from high school, but I can see that you're not. Actually, you're a lot prettier than her. I'm sorry I interrupted you." The voice had me at prettier, and alcohol starts talking through me.

"Wait, what's your hurry?" God, I don't believe I just said that.

"I'm in no hurry; it just seems like you ladies are having a good time, and I don't want to be rude and intrude." The hunk speaks.

Again with no sieve, "No, no you're not interrupting us. I'm Bella; this is Rose, and that's Alice."

"Good evening ladies, I'm Felix. Demetri, the owner here, is my cousin."

I spit out the last swig of my margarita and grab a cocktail napkin. What are the odds of a Felix and a Demetri both working in an anagrammatized Volturi lair?

"Take it easy, Bella," Felix offers as he pat me on the back. Whoa, he is really strong. I bet he could throw me through a wall if he wanted to.

"Yeah, I'm good. My drink just went down the wrong way." I'm shaken _and_ stirred and starting to really feel the effects of the alcohol.

I introduce Felix to the girls, and they exchange their 'heys' and nods.

Felix orders us all another round on him, and I've resigned to the fact that I'm really going to feel like shit tomorrow. This is going to be the last wave for me as I haven't had enough down time to space out the alcohol.

_Lick…salt…shot…suck…sip _

Say that ten times fast; I muse to myself. I actually try it silently and can't get my words right.

"Lick … sholt ... sot … shuck … ship." _Ooops! I said that out loud._

_Giggle, snort._

"Ouch, I got mojito up my nose."

Everyone's laughing at my show, but at this point I don't care.

Felix continues talking, and we find out he's a bouncer at "Breaking Down", which is a new dance club that just opened. (_Breaking Down, Hah, can this night get any stranger_) Felix said he came here tonight to help Demetri out, but it's been kind of slow so he clocked-out.

I'm getting that sudden impatience I get when I drink a little too much. I know I need to leave soon so I can get up for class tomorrow. I stand up but start to fall over.

"Whoopsie." I fall right over onto Felix's lap with my black leather mini-skirted ass proudly on display.

He helps to right me back up on my wobbly four-inch heels and places me back into my seat. I adjust my blue silk blouse so parts of me are not falling out then grab Alice's full glass of water and chug it.

"Are you okay Bella?" The charming voice says.

"Yeah, I'm okay, _(Actually, I'm far from it)_ but I need to get home so I can go to class tomorrow."

"Bella, _you're_ not driving anywhere, girl; you are trashed." Rose berates.

Stubborn Sober Bella gets fairly defensive and grabs Stubborn Sober Bella's purse.

"We'll see about that." I take out my trusty breathalyzer, push the button, and watch the countdown.

When I hear the beep, I know it's ready. I blow and wait for two more beeps before I stop. I look for the red numbers.

**.13**

"Shit."

I search my apps and pull up the one which assesses my blood alcohol content or BAC for short. It's going to take me another four hours….

_Hiccup_.

….before I'm legal enough to drive home.

It will then take another ….

_Hiccup._

….eight and one half hours before all of the rum and tequila is completely out of my system. Edward not only put an app on my phone so I wouldn't have to figure the math while I was drinking, but he actually bought me the breathalyzer for Christmas. He's such a nice tomcat. I want to pet him.

"Felix, would you be able to drive Bella home?" Alice asks.

I feel the room getting a little wavy.

"Sure, that would be no problem; how far away do you live?"

Uh, I'm on seven second delay now. My mouth wants to answer, but Rose has the faster buzzer.

"She lives about ten minutes from here." Rose adds.

"Bella, do you want us to follow you with your truck so you don't have to come back here?"

"No, thaz okay. You twoz are goin' the other way; I don't want to put youz out. I'll get it tmorrow."

"Okay Bella. Take good care of her Felix." Alice says.

"We'll see you on Sunday Bella." Rose adds.

"Tht'll be fiiiiiinnne."

"Come on Bella, we need to get you home safely." Felix promises.

I feel a huge meaty hand cup around my waist _hiccup_ and I feel like I'm walking on air. Wait, _giggle,_ I am walking on air because Felix isn't letting my feet touch the ground, _hiccup._

He buckles me into the passenger seat and closes the door of his Denali. _Snort. (More Twilight references, this is too funny, but it's nice car.)_

I eye him while he's driving. He called me pretty; he's pretty too, but I still think Edward's prettier. Felix is big but looks even bigger in his car as well as appearing super strong; I bet he could throw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, and it wouldn't even bother him.

My brain is conveying that my thoughts are all over the place, but my body is telling me that I'm getting really horny. I take my shoes off, turn myself sideways and start rubbing Felix's thighs. I may have just grazed that sensitive part of his anatomy as he's starting to breathe deeply and squirm in his seat. _Naughty Bella, you're being such a tease._ I pull my legs away and decide to curl into his shoulder. He tenses up a bit, but then relaxes. I nuzzle further into him. He smells good too, but not as good as Edward. If Edward was sleeping in my bed tonight, I'd devour him…lick him from head to toe. _Mmmmmmmmm_

I guess I nodded off because Felix has to nudge me a bit.

"Bella, do you live around here."

"Um yeah, (_I shake out of my haze)_ that's it over there, two more houses up."

He pulls in my driveway, opens my door, unclips my seatbelt and escorts me out careful to make sure I can stand. My itty-bitty power nap gives me a second wind. He walks me to my door, and by some miracle I get my key in on the first try. _Giggle. _I wonder if he can get his key in on the first try. I'm still frisky, and I don't want this night to end yet. I deserve this. Edward's out whoring around; why can't I?

I turn to thank Felix. I look up at him and decide to just go for it. I put my hand around his neck and pull him down for a kiss. My teeth crash into his, and I hope the dull throb I feel is just from the impact and not a chipped tooth. My lips start biting and sucking his. He starts doing the same. _Shit_, his mouth is so big; it's like he's swallowing me whole. He's a large mouth bass to my tiny minnow. I can't breathe. I suck his tongue really hard so he'll let go, but it backfires because now he's sucking mine. _I guess he likes it rough_. I yank on his hair and moan for him to let me go, but he gets the wrong idea and just pushes me into him harder. _Okay Bella._ This is the last weapon in my arsenal. I drop my hand and claw at his cock. That was the wrong decision. Felix picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. He pushes his way through the front door and makes it to the living room. _God it's fucking hot in here._ That's right, I turned the heat up. He plops me down onto the couch. Once my head stops spinning, I get up to turn down the thermostat. Although a part of me thinks this is a bad idea, I'm still a heated mess. I would also be lying if I said I wasn't interested in taking more than a peek at the invitation he has covered up in his jeans.

I've decided that I have no judgment left, so I climb onto his lap. Our mouths now decide to reengage, but the kissing is more subdued; good, he's letting me lead. I break us away from our lips and move us towards necks, chins, cheeks and lobes. I have managed to unbutton his shirt, and he has managed to do the same of mine as we continue our assault on one another. Felix pulls away my blouse and leaves me in my black strapless bra. I've just finished peeling back his collar and wrestling with his sleeves. _I never realized how much effort it takes to undress a beefy guy_. He reaches around my back with both hands and unclasps my black strapless bra. I've just managed to undo his belt buckle and am heading towards the zipper….

All of sudden, the living room light flicks on. In a momentary haze, Felix springs me up off his lap, puts me on the couch and dives, full bore at … Edward?

_Oooommmphhhh. __**Thud**_

The floor just violently shook at ground level, and I'm pretty sure it wasn't an earthquake. I think I've just completely sobered up. Felix has Edward pinned, and I think Edward's out cold.

"Oh my God, Edward, Felix stop, stop. That's my roommate!" I race towards Edward not even caring I'm now topless and still in a leather miniskirt. I kneel on the floor next to him and check to see if he's breathing. _T__hank God, he is._ I open his eye lids to see if they respond to light. _T__hank God, they do._

"Your roommate, you live with a guy?"

"Yeah, he's my best friend."

"Oh really?"

I don't like his tone or his line of questioning, and I don't' need flak from some guy I just met only to have him go all possessive on me after a few drinks a ride home. This ends now!

"Thank you for the drinks and the ride home, Felix. I'm sorry this didn't work out, but now I think you should leave."

"What the hell, Bella. I defend you against an intruder and you usher me out the door?"

"As much as I appreciate your noble efforts, this is his apartment, too, and I don't think it's wise for you to be here when Edward wakes up."

I pick up his shirt and my bra at the same. I quickly slip my bra back on while I push him out the door. I give him a kiss on the cheek, and he actually has the nerve to look put out. I now lock the front door I should have locked in the first place and turn back towards Edward. He is still out, cold.

Oh my God, I've got to call Carlisle. I drop to the carpet next to Edward and go to grab Edward's phone out of his pocket because it's easier than me digging for mine in my purse. Oh no, he's unconscious and he just peed himself; this is not good. I reach in his pocket for his phone. _Wait…_The material is cold. I loosen his belt, undo his zipper, and pull away his pants. _Peas… _Edward must still be hurting, either that or things didn't go well for him tonight.

I find Carlisle's number and hit send.

Edward's dad, Carlisle, is an ER doctor who routinely deals with this. He was also the team doctor when Edward was in high school on the football team. Edward's taken hits before, but because he was a quarterback, he rarely got injured in this way.

_Ring, ring, ring, ring_

"Hello?"

"Carlisle, this is Bella. Thank God you're not on duty at the hospital. Edward went to class tonight, came home and was tackled by my date who didn't realize Edward was my roommate. Edward's out cold right now, and I'm afraid to move him. He's breathing, and I checked his pupillary response to light but is still unconscious.

"Bella, do you have any smelling salts or something with a strong odor like vinegar or ammonia."

"Yeah, I do."

I ran to the kitchen and rummaged under the sink. I grabbed the ammonia, poured some into a cup, ripped off a paper towel and raced back to Edward. I put Carlisle on speaker phone. I dabbed the paper towel into the ammonia and placed it under Edward's nose.

"I see his nose wrinkle Carlisle."

"Keep it there under his nose Bella, but secure his forehead with your other hand to keep him from thrashing."

Edward starts trying to turn his head and begins to complain.

He's starting to bat the paper towel away.

"Okay Bella, hang up and dial me again using Face Time."

"All right."

I do as Carlisle says and put him on Face Time. I just get Carlisle back up on Edward's phone when Edward starts talking to me.

"Ou...ch. My head hurts…My stomach hurts…My balls hurt…. Bella, everything hurts."

"I know Edward, but try to stay still for me okay?"

"Okay."

He sounds so weak. I hate seeing and hearing him like this.

"Son, do you think you can pinpoint your pain for me?"

"Um, yeah Dad; give me a minute."

Edward is struggling to stay still to regain his thoughts.

"I think I took the impact on my lambdoid suture."

I know this area from anatomy in high school. Edward and I were both in the same class. This is the middle part of the back of the head.

"Bella?"

"Yes Carlisle."

"Do you have any books with just pictures of images without any captioning?"

"Yeah, let me go get one, and Edward, don't move."

"Yes ma'am."

I smile my first smile since Edward's gotten hurt. His sense of humor and politeness are good signs.

I find an American photography book and start showing Edward the pictures. I strategically place Edward's phone so Carlisle can see as well to Judge Edward's responses. Edward correctly names everything I display to him: presidents, places, animals, plants. Satisfied with this, Carlisle assesses Edward's extremities to detect any paralysis. Again, it appears as though Edward is fine.

"I think you'll be okay, son."

Carlisle's words detach the cart from my horse. I feel a huge burden lifted.

"Son, do you think you can stand up now?"

"Yeah Dad"

I put my arm under Edward's shoulders and mid-back supporting his weight. I get him to sit up for a minute to see if he's dizzy. He seems okay. I stand and grab Edward's hand to pull him gently upward. He sways a bit but manages to stand.

"How do you feel, son?"

"Um, my head hurts, but I don't have any flashing lights or double vision. I think I'll be okay."

"That's good, son. Bella, would you mind checking in on Edward? Get him an icepack or two. Please try to wake him a few times tonight to check his pupils and cognition and give him some ibuprofen for pain and swelling. If Edward has any leftover Percocets he may take one or two of those if he really needs to, as well. If there's any change in his condition, call me.

"Thank you so much Carlisle."

"You're welcome, Bella. Be good for Bella, Son. Don't give her any grief or aggravation."

"I think she's already had enough of that today from me. I'll be good for her Dad."

"Goodnight, you two."

"Goodnight, Carlisle."

"Goodnight, Dad."

Edward ends the call on his phone and starts heading towards his room, but I stop him. I feel myself starting to have an emotional meltdown and start to cry.

"Edward, I am so sorry. I had no idea you had even come home. Felix bolted towards you so quickly that I didn't even see what he was doing. Please forgive me."

"Come here Bella."

I walk over to him, and he already has his arms stretched out for me. He doesn't have to say he forgives me because I know he already does. He hugs me close, but I feel like I should be comforting him instead.

"Edward, I want you to sleep in my bed tonight so I can keep an eye on you."

Edward pulls back from hugging me.

"I'll do it on one condition."

"What's that?"

"Will you wear what you still have on now?"

Ordinarily, I'd really lay into him for a request of that nature involving me in a black strapless bra and a leather miniskirt, but I may just like what he's asking. Right now, though I'm a little too overwhelmed to contemplate it.

"Sure, why not?"

He gives me that glorious crooked smirk and heads down the hall.

I'll join him shortly after I grab some icepacks and a few water bottles, but not before saying a silent prayer in thanks that we both survived this day and did so still continuing to be best friends. I don't know how our own events of today will play out tomorrow, but I do know that the conundrum of Edward Cullen is not so mysterious to me anymore, after all.

* * *

A/N:

Reviews are like Bella's shots; pour me some.

Thank you for reading.

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	11. Conscious Cullen

Thank you to all of my followers who have been so caring and patient. In the words of Edward, "Muwah!"… I love you all.

* * *

Welcome to PAD's outdated wardrobe.

Stephenie Meyer owns the entire Twilight Closet.

I just want to borrow some of her hand-me-downs.

* * *

Conscious Cullen

* * *

As I'm laying here in bed surrounded by sweet girl smells, soft comforting hands, and a few well-placed bags of frozen vegetables, surprisingly we ran out of peas, I reflect on what I saw that landed me - not only this massive headache but - down on my back because I was caught off guard.

Bella was topless.

I was so spellbound by her rumpled aesthetics - i.e. her mussed-up make-out mane, feral emblazoned features and perked-up C-cup peaks that I could have been trampled in the direct path of the "Running of the Bulls" and would have not even noticed my predicament.

I'm still trying to figure out whether I was stunned because she was half-naked, surprised by the choice of man she was with, or hurt that it wasn't me on the couch with her. Hell, maybe it was just the combination of all three that led to my confounded ass being laid out from the freight train force hitting it. I should be focusing on the here and now, but instead I'm replaying game footage in my head, which is going to get me nowhere except extremely aroused and in more pain. _Pain._ There isn't any way I could do anything with Bella tonight.

I probably should have gone to the emergency room, but in my assumed, concussed, state, I didn't appreciate the idea of being transported by ambulance. When I awoke to Bella's panic-stricken condition and smelled all kinds of alcohol emanating from her breath, I knew she'd still be too drunk to drive me to the hospital, herself. The room was spinning, and my ears were ringing. Eventually, both gradually subsided. I'm actually surprised my dad didn't force the issue and order me to go and get checked out. I felt like I was in kindergarten again with all of the picture identifying he had me do. It was quite embarrassing. Speaking of things that would make one red, Bella was half-dressed in front of my dad, and I don't think she even realized it. I kept my mouth shut because:

1) I'm a horny nineteen year old heterosexual male.

2) It certainly _was_ helping with my healing by speeding up my blood flow.

3) I think if I pointed it out to her, she would have just felt ashamed and gotten flustered.

My dad didn't seem to mind, and neither did Bella, so I remained quiet and enjoyed the scenery. Comfortable that I didn't appear in any grave danger, I guess my dad decided I would be okay to spend the night, which surprised me because he has always been pretty adamant about my receiving treatment after sustaining injuries. But I'm not the doctor, at least not yet, anyway.

Maybe one of these days I'll figure out what I can tolerate doing, actually grow a set and finally declare my major. Bella and my family have been overly supportive of my procrastination, but I'm going to be a sophomore in the fall and need to make a career decision. I guess I'm praying that a revelatory discovery presents itself or falls out of the sky and knocks a suggestion into me. After tonight's knocking, though, I should be careful about what I wish for.

Bella stirs my digressions with a slight snore, and I laugh to myself. She'd never let me accuse her of emitting such a vile noise - as she'd put it - regardless of my truthfulness in the matter. You'd think with how fierce she comes across that nothing would daunt her, but on the contrary, she's exceptionally self-conscious about things making her appear weak, snoring runs a close second to her sleep talking, which is at the top of her list. I haven't heard her in a while, but she's said some unusually bizarre things especially when she conks out on the couch in the middle of the day after watching television. One time while she was napping, I took an uncooked piece of spaghetti and proceeded to tickle under her nose with it. She started talking gibberish and snorted and laughed so hard I thought she would pee in her pants. I had to stop because it was so funny I nearly pissed in mine.

I pull back slightly and take a long look at her sleeping form. She's still wearing the black bra which not only bares her splendid shoulders but shelters her flawless boobs. I was only kidding her when I gave her my no-sleeping-with-her-unless-she-remained-in-her-br a-and-leather-miniskirt ultimatum..._maybe_. The mini skirt is just staggering. Bella's magnificent ass looks like a ripening black plum. It's all taut in the right places and perfectly proportioned with the promise of something tart and juicy. Mmm. _Ouch_. Yep, the boy still isn't ready for any plays yet. At least the frozen corn I placed down there has helped to keep him appeased.

Needless to say, I was extremely happy that she obliged me then bedded herself in the attire I requested...

I open my eyes. I must have dozed off. My head's still killing me. I reach for my water bottle and glance at the clock. It is 3:00 a.m. Bella must have turned the alarm off without fully waking me. I know that if she promised my dad she'd look after me, then she'd do it regardless of her own condition. Come to think of it, I do remember dreaming about something shining in my eyes. She must have used the flashlight to check my pupils. I remember seeing it vertical on her nightstand, but it is now horizontal. It's been three hours since we first crawled into bed. Enough time has elapsed since my last dose, so I'm taking a few more Percocets.

After gulping down the pills with a few sips, I realize that a full moon is now illuminating our room. _Our room_, I grin at the idea of that. I know I'm getting ahead of myself with that whim, but there's something comfortably appealing about the thought.

Bella's just beautiful, both inside and out. There are no other words to embellish this moment, this girl. A heartburn pang twinges in the center of my chest as I think about what I would do if I lost her to another. No one else would be worthy. It's not that I'm this prize catch; she could do so much better. But, I would undoubtedly do anything to make her happy. She deserves that. Sometimes I think I already do make her happy, but then I end up doing something stupid because I haven't thought things through well enough. Bella most likely "tied-one-on" tonight because of the hellish day I put her through. To top matters off, she knows I typically prowl around seeking other girls' affections and don't come home on Thursday nights. The tender moment we shared after I thanked her for helping me with my room should have been evidence enough that Bella has the same feelings for me as I have for her. I deserve all of the pain I'm feeling right now. I must be the smartest, dumb son of a bitch there is for never realizing what's been right in front of me all along.

I observe her face, hair and skin which are now basking in a bluish haze from our own satellite's lunar light. I know that with her drinking tonight and all of the crap I put her through today, she's deep in sleep. It is why there's no hesitation regarding my next action.

I cradle the left side of her face with my right hand and stroke her pursed expression with my thumb to relax her bottom lip from her clinching teeth. She sighs. I smile and exhale.

I draw my mouth towards hers and sow a soft but lasting kiss upon her bitten lip. I retreat to a safe distance and watch the moonlit dancing eye movements behind her drawn lids…she's dreaming. Captivated by the moment and the woman before me, I blurt the words that I feel compelled to say that she probably wouldn't want to hear. "I love you, Bella." Endorphins course through me raising my hairs from their follicles. She doesn't stir, but she does smile. Now I'm the one who sighs. I gather then pull her to me again and soothingly stroke my fingers over the back of her head. I nestle her scalp under my chin, nuzzle my nose into her crown and plant one more kiss there. I take a deep breath, expel it slowly and comprehend this resolution. Bella has indelibly left her mark on me, and there will _never_ be another girl who makes me feel what I do for her. She is too damn special for me to let go of. I'll do anything to make her mine, and hopefully, she'll make me hers.

As I drift off to sleep again, I let my hand drift off as well, and what do you know? It just happens to find a mini-skirted plum. I know things might be awkward for us tomorrow, but for now I'm just going to be thankful for today.

* * *

A/N:

Sorry to those of you expecting a lemon in this chapter.

Our boy still needs some recovery time.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

Reviews are like ripening plums.

Send me some I can bite into.

;)

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	12. Talk to Mr Ed

Welcome to PAD's horse stall.

Stephenie Meyer owns the exclusive Twilight Stables.

I just want to borrow a bucket of feed.

* * *

Talk to Mr. Ed

* * *

"Uh, six-thirty in the morning, I smack off the annoying alarm blaring next to my ear. God, my head hurts. I contemplate how it became this way and think Demetri was overly generous when pouring my drinks last night. Thankfully he doesn't know we're all underage. As much as my pain tells me I don't want to do this again anytime soon, I know I'll go back there soon enough; it's just the nature of being young and letting off steam. The girls and I always dress up to appear older than we are. Additionally, Jasper got me a truly authentic-looking fake I.D. – one my dad would lock me away in my room over, indefinitely, if he knew I had it and have Jasper arrested for if my dad knew where I got it. It's good we never have to show them; it's one of the reasons we keep going back there. Demetri's been cool with us since we met him before the beginning of the fall semester when Edward and I first moved in. So, when the girls asked Felix to bring me home, I initially didn't protest because not only was he was hot looking, he was Demetri's cousin, and we all trust Demetri. Additionally, I knew the girls weren't in much better shape than me but were still staying there to sober up some.

Uh, last night… I threw myself at Felix. Yeah, I went there with the intention of letting loose a bit, but I didn't expect someone to take an interest in me. Don't get me wrong; guys do hit on me while I'm in class and when we go out clubbing etc., but "The Rut" is a hangout where local blue collar guys go to catch up on the male equivalent of gossip, throw back a few beers and watch a few ball games. No one usually messes with us there, which is the way we usually like it. So, when Felix took an interest in me, given all of the crap I had thrust at me from Edward, I just gave in to the distraction.

I look next to the clock and see a quart of water, two extra-strength Tylenol's, and some weird herbal hangover remedy. Edward must have awoken and gotten those things for me during the night after the last time I checked him.

Edward… God, I feel like such an ass, him seeing me topless with Felix, then him getting clobbered and knocked unconscious because of my choice of manly invites. I deserve all of this misery I'm feeling at the moment and will probably continue to feel for the rest of the day…

I must have dozed off again, 6:40. I pull down my covers and try to get up but realize that I have an anchor attached to me in the form of gangly arms and legs covered with sparse fields of shimmery sunlit light colored hair. Its front is flush with my back, and I muse that there must be a big burr on this iron weight because it seems to be abrading my behind right now.

I wiggle my butt and push back into Edward's present situation.

"Unghhhh."

It's his only reply, but he adds to it by constricting his arms around me even more. I really need the water, painkillers and to relieve myself right now; so I try to wriggle out of his confining grip. It's not working. He just tightens up even more seeking greater friction.

I'm conflicted. He feels extremely nice, pleasantly warm and very comforting. I could get used to this. The fingers of his right hand start to wander over my waist.

When I got up at 3:30 to check Edward's pupils for any changes, I slipped out of my bra and skirt and into Edward's tee shirt he had tossed on the floor – it smelled good, so I figured what the hell. I skipped adding flannel pajama bottoms because Edward is furnace, and I didn't want to overheat. I did opt for a change of panties as it somehow felt strange sleeping in the same underwear I was in last night while Felix was groping me. I also brushed my hair, used my toothbrush and washed up some before climbing back into bed and snuggling up with Edward.

As much as I'd love to remain here, I have class. Even with a hangover Introduction to Comparative English Literature should be no problem seeing as though I've already studied my text cover to cover and have read everything on the reading list at least twice.

I know I need to get out of this stronghold and remember the fact that Edward is extremely ticklish, should the need arise, and consider that my ultimate weapon if he doesn't let go of me. I start to move his hands off of my waist, but he toughens his hold.

"Mmmm,_ Kiss_."

What was that all about? I felt Edward's nose graze the side of my neck, then he just planted a kiss right at its base where my shoulder meets it. Edward always gives me friendly pecks, but this is more and intimate.

"_Kiss_."

I get shivers as he does it again.

"Bella."

I stay perfectly still to see if he's awake or dreaming. My heart's now at a galloping pace beating nearly double time. Again, I try to dislodge myself.

"No, don't go; don't leave me. He's not good for you."

What?

Okay, I can play along. Let's see where this goes.

"Ed-ward?"

I draw it out saying it as seriously and quietly sexily as I can.

"Who's not good for me?"

I try to coax this conversation out of him and press my ass back into where it counts.

"Unghhh."

He gives guttural moan and smoothes his hands over my stomach patting it in the process while rubbing his head up and down my hair and the side of my face.

I can't help it. I begin huffing in amusement as Edward reminds me of the talking horse in a "Nick-at-Nite" Mr. Ed television show rerun and expect a whinny and the equivalent of an equine's raspberry out of him at any time. It makes me want to give him a long, fat "horse carrot", and judging by the bulge I still feel at my back, I think he wants to give me one, too.

I force myself to curb my humor as I especially want to see where this goes. I know I sleep talk. I shudder over the crazy things I must have spewed out that Edward's heard from me over the years. Edward's opiate-induced, potentially-revealing ramblings are too good for me to pass up, so I try again.

"Who's not good enough for me, Edward?"

"Football… freight train… Felix."

What?

I bite the inside of my mouth to keep from laughing, but after thinking about his words, I have a sobering thought. I reason Edward's afraid I'll find a boyfriend.

How should I feel about that?

I don't want a boyfriend now, do I?

Random hook-ups take the edge off, and I can certainly see their benefit. If Edward got a steady girlfriend, how would I feel? Could I handle them carrying on here, in front of me, on the couch, in the kitchen, on our deck, or in his bedroom?

I feel my chest seizing. I wouldn't like it, but not because I can't handle his meaningless PDA's. I wouldn't like it because I don't think I could handle his meaningless PDA's turning into something meaningful with someone other than me. That must mean I like Edward, as in like, like Edward. It's likely that it's something even more than like.

All of a sudden, I feel like the room's closing in, and I need some distance. I fight to break free.

"Edward, Edward, let me go, please!"

I am starting to panic. I squirm harder.

"Stop Edward, I need to get out."

I feel Edward release me, and I'm finally able to get up out of bed. I turn around and look at him.

He has terror in his eyes.

His nostrils are flaring, and his sweat is beading. His breaths are forced like that of someone having an asthma attack. God, he looks frightened.

I push my own insecurities aside, and I settle down onto the sheets to be with him.

"I'm sorry. I felt trapped. I needed to get up to use the bathroom and to get water and painkillers. I didn't mean to scare you. He looks at me with a look I don't think I've ever seen, penitence maybe. He brings his forehead to rest gently against mine while his brain's reasoning tries to climb on board with his body's reacting.

I gently stroke the back of his head and feel him wince in pain.

"Oops, I guess it still hurts, doesn't it?"

He nods slightly. I feel his body tense then jerk in successive movements.

"Look at me."

I pull back to see him. The agony in his eyes has now been paired with a fresh set of tears streaming down his cheeks.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

He moves his head from side to side.

"Is it your head?"

He still continues to shake, no.

"Well, what is it then?"

He puts his fist against his heart and gently raps at his chest. The hollow sound resonates around me.

The echo of his emptiness is not lost. His dream became a horrific reality. He thought I was actually leaving him for someone else.

I may have been battling with my own pent emotions up until this point, but in this moment, my mind is now clear.

Now my chest is hurting as I feel the adrenaline course its way through me awakening my actuality.

I prop myself up and begin to angle over to him, slowly. I lower my head and begin to kiss his tears away, first from one cheek then the other. I repeat the action to do the same for both corners of his eyes.

I pull back to gauge Edward's response. He looks stunned in a young-majestic-buck-caught-on-a-road-in-headlights way. I hope my next action quells his fear.

I heedfully inch towards him with fixed determination. I've never been more certain of anything and have no doubt I want to do this. My morning breath, raging headache and bursting bladder can wait.

Never losing his gaze, I cup my right hand around Edward's neck and coax him towards me. I judge his expression one last time and find his acceptance before I place a small soft kiss onto his lips. I move back to see his apprehension and kiss him again once more. This time I gently tug his upper lip. I'm greeted with soft stubble. It feels delightful, so I smile. I am careful when I weave my fingers through a part of Edward's hair at the nape of his neck I know has been unaffected by his injury. I pull his silken strands cautiously and scratch his sensitive scalp slightly. He rewards me appreciatively.

"Mmmmm."

I now take on his whole mouth sweetly, kneading and pulling his pliable pink skin. He lets me explore. Slight tugs, nudges and nips and are now tender sucks, testing licks and subtle swallows. I've found his unhurried tongue as he's found mine. Now we are both trekking through uncharted space. I'm lost in cavernous depths of his satiny teeth. I feel the silky walls inside his mouth and need to taste the smoothness of his rippled palate. His tongue is pleasingly plush and welcomingly warm. I berate myself. If I had known it would feel this good, I would have pursued this a long time ago. I don't just want to comb his mouth. I want to explore his entire terrain. I feel a tingly rush moving from my brain stem up along the back of my head. It makes my sultry thoughts swirl; it's euphoric. I feel tingling elsewhere, too, in places where he isn't but I would like him to be. I know it's time to stop; it's too soon, but in ways, it hasn't been soon enough. I reason we need to slow down; I don't want to compromise this. I sense our dynamic has changed as we pull away at the same time and speak with our eyes what our mouths dare not say; it's too early. We draw our lips together one last time uncertain if this will continue but hopeful it will.

"Hi." It's my simple reply to him.

"Hi back." He gives me.

"I, uh, need to get ready for class. Are you okay? Do you need me to stay with you this morning?"

"No, you should go. I think I'm okay to go, too. I'm a little sore, but it's nothing I haven't experienced before with football."

"Oh crap, I left my truck at "The Rut". Do you think you can swing me by so I can get it before class?"

"Of course I can."

"Okay, well, um, I think I'll just take a shower then. I should put the coffee on first."

"Don't worry about it. I think I can manage to set up the pot and flick on the switch without burning out our apartment, at least for today, anyway."

"Alright, I should get started on the shower then."

I figure I'll get the water running then gather my clothes and take the pills Edward has set out for me.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

I turn back to look at him and see the doubt in his eyes.

"Are we okay? I mean I know we're okay, but is_ this_ okay because I especially want it to be okay?_ Okay_?"

I walk back to him and pull his forehead to my lips to cease his ramblings and quash his misgivings. I place a soft kiss there and carefully caress his head. I then release my grip so our eyes can meet.

"This, is more than okay; it's better than okay. You know what, it's so much better than okay, it's perfect. We'll make this work Edward, I promise. There will be times when I may need to yell at you or beat on you. Sometimes I probably will even want to kill you, but I'll always be there for you.

"That's good enough for me."

With an ass grab and a tight hug, Edward sends me to the shower. I'm not sure how all of this will work out between us as I know we shouldn't rush into things without discussing them first. We still have to figure out what this is and should probably keep it quiet around our friends and families until we figure it out for ourselves. We aren't quitters and are up for any challenge. I know that this won't be easy, but I know it's worth doing. I just hope regardless of what happens that our friendship survives.

* * *

A/N:

Mr. Ed was an American comedic television show of the 1950's and 1960's featuring a talking stallion. The only person Mr. Ed spoke to was his owner, Wilbur. The cable television network, Nickelodeon resurrected the show's reruns during their evening programming segment, Nick-At-Nite. The show ran for eight seasons with 145 episodes.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

Reviews are like "horse carrots".

Send me some I can chomp on.

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	13. Confabulatory Cullen

Please accept my lateness; unfortunately real-life takes precedence.

"Never Judge By The Cover" hit 500 reviews this week "woo-hoo"!

I also signed on for a Bella and Edward O/S for the Fandom4OK compilation. It's entitled:

"For the Kindness of a Stranger".

* * *

Welcome to PAD's iffy relationship.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Counseling Center.

I just want her to take me on as a client.

* * *

Confabulatory Cullen

* * *

Something changed when I dropped Bella off at Demetri's at 8:30 this morning, and I actually felt relieved when she gave me a quick kiss on the lips and booked out of my car. I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding onto when she drove away.

What is wrong with me? The girl I just figured out I love declared herself to me with no words while I was having a pussy meltdown of epic proportion after having a horrific nightmare involving her willingly being ripped away from me from that Felix beast who was in our living room. I could brand my own ass as chastisement in knowing I gave an especially masculine performance while crying my eyes out over losing her last night – what a way to pour on the testosterone, Cullen – and she still consoled me while baring her own soul. I felt like such a pathetic loser this morning after wondering what she must have thought of me.

Then, when she stepped out of the shower, things started going south, or maybe they even packed up and moved east. I don't know if she just experienced second thoughts or washed away all of my irresistible pheromones, but something with her definitely became different in our relationship, if I can even call it that.

After we had a silent war over whose music was going to play in_ my_ car on the way over to _her_ truck, things just felt a little weird between us. Oh, who am I kidding, things were monumentally fucked up.

What once seemed like an endless set of foreplay involving teasingly playful acts of sexually repressed banter now feel like Twilight Zone shit where we aren't even in the same dimension.

Bella kissed me.

I should be on figurative cloud nine, but instead I'm stuck in Seattle fog. If I don't find a way out of it soon and get my head out from inside my ass, I could ruin the best thing of my life.

I get that we're in that awkward stage now because the "chalk guy" hasn't shown up yet to put the lines down on our playing field. Neither of us can even call a home court advantage now because we both live together. We can only slam doors and retreat to our rooms or grab our own keys and speed off if we have fights.

God, even my hypothetical thoughts are condemning us before this even gets started. We haven't even willingly gotten to second base yet, and already I'm dooming this. Well, maybe subconsciously I have gotten to some groping but that doesn't count because I wasn't conscious!

Maybe it's just the novelty and all that has us both panicked. It could also be the fact that neither of us knows how to proceed because this is truly something new. I hope this is just an uncomfortable - "When-Harry-met-Sally-realization" - and things will, eventually, have their happy ending. At least I hope it will have a happy ending, no not _that_ kind, I'm not that crass. On second thought I want that happy ending, too, and maybe I am _that_ crass.

Getting back to what matters, we had our walking-on-eggshells-to-not-scare-the-elephant-in- the-room moment this morning and skirted around all things related to us in an attempt to get some of our normalcy back.

I managed to make drip coffee and strawberry Pop-Tarts without any red trucks or water hoses paying us a visit. Maybe that was the clincher…strawberry Pop-Tarts…comfort food…the things that WALMART puts out on pallets when the economy is bad to make people feel good. Maybe, inadvertently, I'm seeking feel-good food because I'm afraid that this isn't going to work. In turn, she saw that in me and now she's going all Freudian by second guessing me, as well.

I have to stop thinking. She couldn't have gotten all of that from my choice of breakfast food, could she? That damn business class I took last semester has me over analyzing everything now, too.

Weed would really fix this shit now. I should go find Jasper, but what am I trying to fix? I can't just smoke all of my problems away. I can't even talk to Jasper about it because Bella and I agreed that we wouldn't tell our friends or families. I'm fucked. I guess I should just drag my ass to class now and try to deal with our issues later.

* * *

I'm sitting in my Anthropology: Sex and Gender class, but I keep on daydreaming about how forced stuff felt between Bella and me earlier. I almost want to ditch cleaning my room today and just not show up until after Bella leaves for work this afternoon, but that would be an extremely "chicken-shit" move on my part.

"Read chapter four and be prepared to engage in a lively class discussion. Have a good weekend; I'll see you all on Wednesday."

The professor's words generate an idea, and I wait for the rest of the students to filter out.

"Um, Professor Cope, may I have a few minutes of your time."

"Certainly, Mr. Cullen, I do have student appointment hours now, but not surprisingly, for a soon to be Friday afternoon, none have been signed up for. Please, by all means, follow me to my office."

I give her my killer grin and offer to carry some of her things. She smiles obligingly and probably knows my angle but doesn't let on. I continue walking behind her in a rhythm I could potentially equate to being part of my own execution. The only things missing are the town heckles and the ominous drumbeats.

My heart's in my throat over what I want to discuss. It's so unlike me to ask anyone for advice, especially in this area of study.

"Thank you for allowing me to talk to you on such short notice."

It's all I can get out. My words are frozen, locked up like a fallen twig that's been captured in ice.

"Well, what may I help you with; is it something about today's lecture, the upcoming assignments or a special interest topic?

That last part jars me and dislodges_ the twig_.

"It isn't about today's lecture or upcoming assignments but, I guess it can be considered a special topic…"

I stand, shake out my nerves, close my eyes, count to five, and find my focus; here goes.

"I live with a girl roommate. She's been my best female friend forever. We've grown up together. Very recently, as in last night, recently, we kind of made our intentions known to one another that we want to try to do the boyfriend-girlfriend thing. I know all about the physiology of trying to make that part of the relationship work but know nothing about the dynamics of how the social and intimacy stuff is supposed to play out. I've never done this kind of thing before and have pretty much viewed sex as an act - to relieve tension, have fun or satisfy urges. I want to take this extremely seriously and not screw things up. My friend means the world to me, and I want things to work out between us."

"Bravo, Mr. Cullen; I commend you for being so serious. Your statement says a great deal about your character and commitment. I so rarely see these attributes present in the underclass men and women I teach. Just your presence here assures me that you will not take your relationship lightly. There isn't one specific antidote I can offer to cure all your ails, but I will let you borrow this."

She hands me a yellow and black CD. Is this a joke, Relationships For Dummies? She must see the dumbstruck look on my face.

"I know what you must be thinking, Mr. Cullen. 'She's a professor. She's supposed to be an expert. She teaches us classes. She should know these things'…

I assure you, I am capable on all counts and that is why I am suggesting this book. It simplifies what your text cannot. It sounds to me like you need help now, not in another thirteen weeks when the semester ends. This book will help you with the basics. Your textbook will help further to fill in the gaps, if necessary. The most important point of advice to consider is for you to listen to your partner, which is clearly not something you were actively engaging in while in my class today."

She's got me there.

"I'm sorry about that, I was a little preoccupied."

"If you just browse through even the high points of this book, you will fare well. Also, think about the one form of intimacy you flourish in and capitalize off of that strength. Good luck, Mr. Cullen; your friend is fortunate to have someone as conscientious as you."

"Thank you, Professor."

* * *

I head home with renewed determination but not before popping the CD into my car stereo.

Additionally, I also stop off to get a few things I think will help us overcome some of the awkwardness.

My head still hurts. I should probably have gotten an x-ray, but it's not as bad as it was last night; I don't have dizziness or blurred vision, either. I checked in with Dad, and he said I should be okay, as Bella had already texted him throughout the night with unremarkable updates, as he'd put it.

My gut is in rough shape, too, from the head butt and the lethally spicy Asian food I had last night. I have to pull over and use the facilities at a local coffee shop. It's a good thing they had a window in the men's room. I can now add flaming asshole to my list of somatic complaints along with my hurting head and aching stomach. At least my nuts aren't going nuts. I think I have finally recovered in that respect.

I feel guilty for giving their john a workout so I get myself a coffee and buy some fresh cannoli for Bella. I make a "doughnut" out of my sweatshirt for my burning butt and gently get into my car. I am so tempted to toke-up to ease my mind, but I need a clear head. I consider what the Professor said about listening and finding a relationship-strength. I think about how I goad Bella all the time which is what gets her hot. This seems to work for us. It's not that I want to piss her off all the time, but it appears to excite her when my "dickishness" forces her upper hand.

I decide I'm going to pretend nothing's awkward and just be me.

* * *

"Hey Bella. "

I walk over to her and give her the bouquet of lilies, gladiolas, snap dragons and roses I bought. I also give her a few African violets in assorted lavenders she doesn't already have, as purple is her favorite color, and put the box of cannoli in front of her."

"Wow, um thank you."

"You're welcome."

I lean in and kiss her on the side of her temple like I would ordinarily, nothing different just similar comfort. See, I don't always have to be a jerk.

"Um, I made some lunch; do you want to eat before starting your room? I still have to leave at 2:40 to be to work by 3:00."

"Sure."

Well, at least she doesn't seem to be freaking out; maybe this will work out between us after all.

Bella made tuna sandwiches with minced celery, Vidalia onions, and fresh-cracked pepper corns – she uses a mixture of white, black, red, green and pink ones with each color having its own distinct flavor it lends. She uses mixed mesclun lettuce. Mesclun, it's not mescaline Cullen. This line of thought now has me thinking about the peyote cactus mescaline comes from, which in turn is making me think about peyote buttons from the cactus which is making me think of what they look and feel like which is the cluster of tissue associated with the nerve bundled area a woman's rumored g-spot is located around. This, in turn, is making me think of finding Bella's rumored nerve-bundled, g-spot area.

"Are you okay?" You kind of have a glazed look about you?"

"Uhm, yeah, I was just thinking about the mixed greens you put on the tuna."

"Oh, okay."

Bella knows me well enough not to push further when it comes to my convoluted thoughts.

We finish our sandwiches.

"Do you want the cannoli now or later?"

"Um, after you do your room will be fine. I kind of want something heavy like that to tie me over until I have to make supper later on.

Bella starts doing the dishes. I grab a sponge and start wiping the table. She gives me a wrinkled brow in confusion but doesn't say anything. Then I grab a dish towel from the drawer she keeps them in, and I watch her add the soap and put the dishes in. Huh, she only adds about a teaspoon, interesting. She also starts with the glasses first. After she washes those, she adds the silverware, lastly the plates. I dry them all and put everything away.

"Thank you, Edward."

She turns to me and tiptoes to plant a simple kiss to my lips.

Ooh, chalk one up for Cullen. The pitching in with chores earns rewards points. I wonder if I can accrue frequent flyer miles and bump up to the next category. I consider what I'll have to do to become a member of the mile-high tier. It's time to do some table-turning.

She pulls away eyeing me for my reaction. I give nothing away but place my hands on both of her shoulders and give her a half-circle turn.

I start gently massaging her blades and roll my thumbs up and down her neck. She tenses at first and tries pulling away at the increased intimacy, but I hold her in place and keep up the assault.

She relaxes and starts to enjoy it.

"Edward, uhnng, this re-Eally isn't ne-ecessary, but ple-Ease don't stop."

"I wouldn't dream of it."

I continue but don't push by making this into something more. We'll have to ease into that when she is good and mellow. I have a feeling that last night her alcohol and my opiates moved us further along than what would have naturally progressed between us, so maybe she felt a little backpedaling was in order this morning to spare some embarrassment.

I draw her back around so I'm facing her, and in a suave move I nuzzle my nose next to her ear to make her shiver, and then I whisper.

"Thank you, Bella, for a delicious lunch; I am so looking forward to supper."

I'm careful to enunciate each syllable and put special emphasis on my l's, s' and p's before leaving a lengthy, suctioning kiss on her right cheek.

It's just enough to leave a slightly reddened mark but not an overtly noticeable hickey. That will have Mike Newton, Bella's boss' "handsy" son irritated and curious over which male got close enough to leave that mark on her when she goes to the sporting goods store this afternoon. Take that, asshole, hands-off; she's spoken for.

Bella's glassy eyes and drooping lids tell me she's gotten my message - that I have her right where I want her, which is clearly worked up. She clears her throat before speaking.

"Maybe, we should get started on your room before we get any more distracted."

"That sounds like a plan."

I lead the way and think about what my blueprint entails and hope tonight will find her just as eager to show her emotions as the last one. I realize, though, that I am way out of my element and have to employ some powerful assistance. So as soon as Bella has gone to work, I am going to doing some serious Facetiming with mom.

* * *

A/N:

Next up is Edward's room part two.

What more can Bella find?

Do you think it will put a damper on Edward's plans?

Review me your thoughts.

* * *

Thank you for reading.

PAD

* * *

Special thanks to Monica Solis

AKA: CaliGirlMon on FFN for making my banner.

Muwah!


	14. Den of Cullen Part 2

Welcome to PAD's upset stomach.

Stephenie Meyer owns the Twilight Pharmacy chain

I just want her to sell me some antacid.

* * *

Den of Cullen Part 2

* * *

Oh my God, I was so freaked out this morning! After I had a chance to take a shower, sober up some more and rid myself of my nagging hangover, I started thinking about what I said to Edward. Was it too soon? Should I have waited? Would it have been better if I had let him initiate things first? Is it still a good idea to do this at all?

I started pacing in my bedroom afraid to go into the kitchen, and when I did go in Edward had coffee and Pop-Tarts already made. The gesture was endearingly sweet and extremely Edward. He gave me comfort food. I saw the concern in his eyes, which was a clear indication that this wasn't us. He was trying to do whatever he could to alleviate that.

I didn't know how to act, so I adopted my bitch mode as a defense mechanism as well as an avoidance tactic. Rose would be so proud, but I wasn't. The way that I was acting wasn't me. It wasn't right. In fact, it was incredibly cruel. Edward deserved better especially after the hellish night he must have endured because of me. I had to be all quiet and brooding in the car, and I kept messing with the songs he had chosen. Eventually, I did snap out of my foul mood long enough to give Edward a goodbye/thank-you kiss on the lips. It didn't matter if it was rather curt and very quick; it was a gesture. At least it was something. Throughout the morning, I mellowed out and had time to think and accept that we can do this. I reasoned that we had already been through a lot. Our friendship is strong. I know this will work. With a renewed resolve, I headed home.

My issues seemed better when he came back after class. They appeared almost normal. He was his usual brown-nosing, good-natured self, although he did go a little overboard this time in getting me the fresh-cut flowers and variegated violets. I love violets. He's such a sneaky bastard. He knows my weaknesses. Edward getting me cannoli was also a low blow. To further his sweetness, he broke out the sponge and dishtowel to help me. Then to continue his game, (Oh I know it's a game.) He put those glorious fingers to work on my shoulders, neck and back and wouldn't let me pull away until I was Silly Putty smiling back at him with a goofy comic book image embedded onto my face. Then he gave me that whispering kiss that resonated through my core and tickled the minute cilia in my ears. I felt the effects all the way down to my ankles when I realized that they were giving way. This gave me visions of him bending me over the sink or maybe him taking me under it. Unfortunately, he knew just when to stop.

As I followed him to his room, I had to steady myself against the hallway walls. All of the blood from my head drained its way elsewhere in my body, and I found it difficult to walk from the dizziness in my brain and sensitivity between my legs. He's such a shit. I have to go to work in a little while, and I'll be stuck all afternoon thinking about him leaving me a mess like this. Maybe I can excuse myself to find the right friction by making wise use of some of Newton's "sticked" sporting goods objects if it gets to be too much for me. Right now there actually isn't time to start anything here, at home. I think it would seem funny - initiating some afternoon-delighting in the midday -as our dispositions seem to be much more relaxed when we go to bed.

_Bed._ I wonder if Edward is going to want to sleep in his room tonight once he gets it clean. Is he going to want me to sleep with him? Oh, whom am I kidding? Edward wouldn't ever turn down intimate cuddling or having sex. _Having sex. _Is that what we're going to do? I know there's no way I have time for a wax, but maybe I can squeeze in some intimate gliding time with my Venus shaver in the shower.

I feel like it is _cherry-plucking_ time once again because it reminds me of when I was a junior in high school. Riley Biers, my first real boyfriend, and I decided we'd do it the week before graduation, so when we went to the senior bash and stayed out overnight at the Port Angeles hotel, it wouldn't be awkward or painful. He was extremely incredible about taking care of me. It's too bad his dad became unemployed and had to take a job elsewhere. Riley had to move just after Christmas in our senior year. Edward, too, was friends with him, so Edward understood how I felt and consoled me after Ri had left. Edward blew off a party that weekend and stayed with me in my living room all night and just held me while I cried. He brought over every ridiculous, comedy he could get his hands to get me through it. He even braided my hair claiming he did it to keep the snots away from my face. He also told me that knowing it would make me laugh, which it did. Edward took great care of me that weekend even though I knew he was also hurting from missing his good friend.

"Hey, earth to Bella."

I break away from my moment and realize I've been zoning-out and am now perched sitting cross-legged on Edward's bed. I don't even remember entering his room.

Hmm?"

"Where did you go?"

"Oh, nowhere in particular; I was just thinking about how good you've been to me over the years and how fortunate I am to have you as my best friend."

Edward's face starts really reddening, and the color spreads all the way to the tips of his ears.

"Wow, um, I didn't expect that. Um, thank you. I'd do anything for you. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I actually do."

We share a tender moment where we just stare at each other feeling our feelings. In this moment, I just want to kiss him and hold him, but I know we won't get anything done if we do. Then, I'll have to interrupt our session by going to work. I want our first time to be special, unrushed, and not desperate.

"Maybe I should get started."

Edward does what I can't and breaks away starting to busy himself. I know he feels it too, the energy between us.

"Okay, we left off with you having to clean out your closet, clear off your bed and rid your floor of all these clothes. Let's start on the floor first. You will need to make two piles: the-need-to-be-washed pile and the-need-to be-hung–up-or-folded-and-put-away-pile. Do you think you can figure out which of your clothes are clean and which ones are dirty?"

"Define dirty."

"Are you serious?"

I feel the acid sloshing around in my stomach like water in a washing machine just thinking about the last time I was in here discovering all of Edward's atrocious habits.

"Kidding, I'm just kidding, Bella. I'm pretty sure I can figure it out."

He looks back at the haystack-sized mounds of clothes on his floor and blinks at them slowly intaking something. Haystacks are not a pleasant analogy. Snakes like to inhabit them. There better not be any snakes underneath as we do live on the ground floor. I shudder.

"What's the matter? You look a little confused."

I watch as he is still slowly processing something.

"Bella, I'm going to need help doing laundry and folding clothes. I don't know how to do any of that."

Now I'm the one with the trouble allowing this to sink in.

"What?"

"Well my mom used to do all of that for me. I have no idea what she did to clean my stuff. Whenever I'd get home from school, all my dirty shit would be cleaned and put away."

"What have you been wearing since we moved in? You do wear clean clothes, don't you?"

Suddenly, I'm kind of disturbed that Edward would cohabit in the same filthy underwear with God knows what kinds of microbes in them.

I think my "washing machine" just hit the spin cycle.

"Of course I wear clean clothes, Bella. I, uh, just go out and buy more whenever I need them."

Okay, that explains a lot. He keeps adding to his wardrobe without laundering any of them. It's no wonder his room is cluttered.

I shake my head in disbelief and let out a garrotted sigh.

"Well, we need to start somewhere. Are any of your jackets wearable?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure they are."

"Good, let's begin there."

Edward quickly begins picking things up and putting them through the guy sniff test ritual. I watch his face for any outward signs of offense. If his expression changes too radically, I tell him to place the item in the "do wash" pile instead of the "put away" pile. I know I'm positively not handling any of those items.

Thankfully, his expression only soured about a dozen times with the jackets. He's a nineteen year old male in the prime of his sexuality, so I thank God he keeps himself very clean. I think being here, in Seattle, he does this even more so than when we lived back in Forks, at home. I have noticed a substantial increase in our water bill since we first moved in and also know his keeping clean is not the only reason for its spike. There's been much more temptation to get Edward excited here than back home. Temptation, hmm, I hope he's actually serious about us and completely curtails his pursuit of the female persuasion. If he ever did that to me, last night's pain he experienced from Felix would be a finger thump.

We've moved onto jeans and are just about ready to start on his shirts. Edward works out a lot and plays any kind of ball sport he can get his hands on. Yeah, I know the reference, and I'm not going there. He's extremely good at what he does. It's exhilarating watching him. He's graceful and proficient at all of his on the court or on field activities. So as far as the shirts go, unless they still have tags on them, they are all getting washed.

We are at underwear now so unless it is in the package and factory folded, it's getting cleaned and sanitized-end of sentence.

Edward's finally done with sorting, and it's no surprise that about four-fifths of what he owns needs to be washed. I guess our water bill will be increasing again but for an entirely different reason.

"Are you doing okay Edward?"

"Yeah, this is awesome, why wouldn't I be? I actually feel useful for a change. I always wanted to help at home since I was little, but my mom always shooed me away. I kind of feel like a dipshit. It's a good thing you're here. I could never admit this weakness to another girl. It's shitty that I'm this much of a wuss and can't even pick up my own room or do my own laundry. Thanks for helping me now and for putting up with my disheveled ass and horrible habits. You're genuinely special, and I know I don't deserve you."

I was feeling a little disquieted about the comment Edward made about not wanting another girl to share in this vulnerable side of him. It was starting to bring on some green-monster-Bella feelings when he began mentioning it. I didn't like it. It's a good thing he redeemed himself at the end of his statement, otherwise my good mood would be extremely tainted right now.

"Thank you Edward. You've shown a different side of yourself in the last few days, and I'm proud of you."

This time he takes the initiative by closing our distance. He sits down next to me at the bottom of the bed and cups my face like he's palming a basketball and interweaves his splaying fingers into the hair just above my neck. I feel my eyes start to close.

"No, thank you… Kiss.

For being a spectacular… Kiss

And phenomenal… Kiss

Best friend… Kiss

And brand new… Kiss

Sexy as hell… Kiss

Girlfriend." Kiss

That awakens me. What, Edward think's I'm sexy? He's ready to pull away, but I'm not, so I push him down on his bed straddling my legs to keep him there for my attack. Now he's all wide-eyed. Good, it's about time he gets a taste of what he's been dishing out to me.

"You're welcome. Kiss

For being a caring… Kiss

Considerate… Kiss

Superlative bud… Kiss

And refreshing… Kiss

Hot as hell… Kiss

Boyfriend." Kiss

He rolls me sideways and now has a leprechaunish glint, which pairs nicely with the Kelly green coloring his eyes now take on from the sunlight beaming through his windows.

"You think I'm hot?"

Of course, that's all he would absorb from this. I guess I'm no better in that respect; look at what I did when he said it to me.

"Edward, half of UDub thinks you're hot."

"That well may be, Bella, but I distinctly remember you saying it. Are you going to tell me again?"

There's no way he's getting me to repeat myself.

"No."

"Are you sure about that?"

Oh shit, he has that look in his eye, the one that says he'd about to tickle me senseless.

"Don't you dare."

He brings those torturing long fingers close.

"Say it, out loud; say it."

I'm going to have to concede, which I hate.

"Okay, okay, Ithinkyouarehot."

"That's better, a little rushed but definitely better."

"Asshole."

I say it under my breath, but obviously he's heard me because his itching digits are still making a slow approach to taunt me.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, nothing, let us get back to work."

I wouldn't dare let him get near me with his assaultive fingers. The last time Edward tickled me it was after I drank a quart of Gatorade after running to his house. I had a hard time explaining to Esme why I was bringing his comforter downstairs to be washed and had suddenly changed into a pair of Edward's sweatpants. He was such a prick.

"Should we do the bed next, Bella?

I give him a simple nod and proceed to get up so he can strip the bed.

He starts hurling off his pillows. He must have about eight of them. When he gets to the last one, which is wedged long-way and upright against his wall hiding the poster of his bed, I see why it's there.

"Edward what are those?"

His face turns a shade of embarrassment I don't think I've ever seen.

"Um, they're bras."

Over his bedpost, no lie, there must be about fifty of them. They cover the "Three C's" of brassieres. Every cup, color and cut is represented.

"Why do you have so many of them? Is there something you should be telling me about some weird cross-dressing tendencies you might have?

I am holding in my disgust because I have to hear this.

"Cross-dressing, ha! Come on Bella you know me better that. The reason I have them may have to do with the fact that I might have mentioned to one or two girls that I have a thing for collecting nice lingerie; so word's gotten around about my interest, and sometimes girls just reach up their shirts, unclasp their goods and hand me their articles. I kind of consider them as calling cards. There have been other times when I've initiated the act of acquiring, but in those instances I don't feel like giving them back especially when I was the one that did the work to obtain them in the first place. A third reason could be I just like trophies."

"I'm stupefied. I am also blaming this on Esme. She has a room in Edward's mini-mansion where she keeps all of Carlisle's, Emmett's, and Edward's awards, certificates and plaques; it's like a hall of fame. I've unofficially but affectionately dubbed it "The Shrine of All Things Cullen."

"So, what do you plan to do with them now?"

He _will_ give the right answer, otherwise he's not getting anything from me in return.

"Well, I truly hate to part with any of them. I'm missing a few key colors: mint green, black cherry and cotton candy. I really wanted to get my hands on those."

He says it so seriously and with such a straight face. I'm sure those aren't the only things he wants to get his hands on.

That "washing machine" has now sprung a leak in one of its hoses. In my calmest voice, I begin offering my next line of ultimatums.

"Edward, I'm going to let you pick. Do you think you can guess what you will be choosing from?"

"Well judging by how your left eye is beginning to spasm, and your right hand is starting to twitch I think it's safe to say that I have to get rid of these."

He actually has the nerve to begin pouting.

"Well, here's a garbage bag. Start using it."

"Um, would you mind giving us a few minutes alone?"

He's gesturing towards his rainbow assortment of slingshots. That's it. I slowly walk to his door and firmly grab the #10 golf driver behind it. Never mind the nine-iron, this has a greater contact point -meaning more surface area to hit him.

"Okay, Bella, okay! I was teasing…"

I feel my blood pulsing through the veins in my head. I couldn't be any more amped-up than I am now, I think I'd pop a vessel if I were.

"Come here… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get you so worked up. Honestly, even though this parting-with-stuff- thing is new for me I do know better. I'm not that much of an insensitive douchebag."

He holds me tight and sways me rhythmically. I feel as if I am one of those clowns that you blow up and then punch. Right now, if he hadn't grabbed me, I'd seriously be looking for one at the store tonight. I'm not _that_ heartless. As much as I want to wail on him now, I wouldn't hit an already injured person.

"Edward, things have changed between us."

He immediately stops and pushes me gently backward at arm's length to see my expression. He has a panicked one presently plastered on his face.

"What do you mean things have changed? Bella, I promise I'll be good. All of this will be gone by the time you get home. Please, don't break up with me.

What have I started? I put my hand on his cheek.

"Edward, I'm not breaking up with you, yet…"

He needs to hear this.

"What I'm trying to get you to understand is that because we are in a new relationship, things will be more sensitive between us. You can't expect me to just write-off all of your past conquests as if they never happened, especially if girls continue to give you their underwear. I mean it Edward, you can't just joke about this if you want us to work. You don't know how close I came to just telling you to forget about trying this."

"Please Bella, I really apologize. I know I push your buttons, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't do it on purpose. We have a special way of communicating between us, and I don't want to lose that. Do you have any idea how much you turn me on when you get mad? Your skin gets all flushed, your eyes get mad-crazed, and you secrete these wickedly alluring pheromones that make you irresistible. Do you know how difficult it's been for me to not just throw you over my shoulder, drag you off to my room and fuck you rigorously stupid? You make me horny so often I'm forced to shower three times a day and beat-off twice as much as that."

I know I inwardly joked a lot about what he's saying, but hearing it directly from his own mouth when it's supposedly my doing is surreal. _Has_ Edward been jerking off while thinking about me six times a day? That explains all of the empty condom wrappers he had on his floor. I don't know whether to be flattered or nauseated. I guess I should appreciate his desire for me. I have to admit, his over-the-shoulder-fuck-me-stupid rant sounds pretty good. Maybe I can push _his_ buttons for a change or maybe just unbuttoned them. If I don't stop thinking about this, I'm never going to make it to work.

"Edward, I need to leave soon. Can I help with your bed?"

"Sure, but first, please hold the garbage bag so I can get rid of my _trophies_."

He makes quick work of it by unlooping them all together from his bedpost and placing them in the bag.

Next he rips off his navy blue comforter. His mattress is so curled it looks like a giant Pringle. I watch as he peels the sheets off of his bed as he would layers off an onion. I count one flat sheet and ten fitted sheets. I should know better by now than to be surprised by anything Edward does.

"Let me figure this out. You, of course, don't do laundry, so you just put on more sheets?"

"How did you know?"

He gives me his satanic grin.

"It was a wild guess."

"Bella, would you please go into my closet and get another sheet set?"

"Sure."

I walk over to his closet and toss him out a bagged set. I also pelt him with four new double packages of pillowcases.

He gives me his oh-you-are-so-going-to-get-yours-later-look for doing that, which I am anxiously anticipating.

He has the new sheets on the bed and is working on stuffing his pillows into the cases.

"Bella, would you please toss me out a new comforter?"

"Okay, you have two in here, should I open this one? It looks like the one you had on your when we first moved in."

"Bella, don't unzip that bag!"

It's too late. I already catch a whiff of what's inside. I'm not quite certain of the combination of smells, but it hits me like a battering ram. I smell something sour, rancid and moldy all at the same time and feel the unmistakable urge to hurl the contents of my stomach. I can't close the bag fast enough. The damage has already been done. Edward flies over towards me and grabs the plastic. He pulls open the window and hurtles the bag and its contents outside. He then leaves the window open.

I'm fanning the air around my nose. The stench won't leave quickly enough.

"Edward, what the hell was in that there?"

"I don't think you honestly want to know."

"Humor me."

"Oh, you clearly won't find much humor."

"EDWARD!"

"Okay, okay. Jazz and I got unbelievably trashed one night. We were eating shrooms wrapped in Oscar Mayer bologna and drinking So-Co straight. We were laughing so hard from the effects that we may have puked all over my bed. Instead of dealing with it at the time, our psychedelically altered brains may have reasoned that we should just roll up the blanket and shove it back into the bag."

The acid in my stomach is flowing full force. I am now pale, and_ I_ want to throw up.

"Dammit Edward, are you shitting me? Right now I just want to hit you in the head with a shovel, but three things are stopping me: I'm too weak, you're still injured and I have to go to work!"

Edward scoops me up and carries me outside. I use my right arm and give a lame attempt to flail it at his chest as he holds me.

"I don't know how you put up with my stupid ass."

He takes the words right out of my mouth.

"I don't know either."

"I kind of forgot the blanket was in there until you went to open it."

"Yeah I gathered that."

"Bella, you go to work. I'll take care of the rest of my room. I'll even shampoo my rug now that I know how."

"You'll have to move all of your stuff. You don't have that kind of room in there. Edward we're going to have to go the laundry mat. If we do all of the clothes here, we are liable to break the machine. Why don't you bag all of it and put it in the bed of my truck? We'll go make a day of it and wash the clothes tomorrow. I'll pack a picnic lunch, and we can bring our homework and some board games."

"See, this is why _this_, you and me, will work. I can do things well as long as someone tells me and gives me direction. You're good for me, Bella."

He kisses my forehead.

"You can put me down now."

"What if I don't want to let you go?"

"Well then you can explain to Mr. Newton why I'm not coming in. Besides, don't you want to show off the hickey you gave me to Mike. You know, he's going to be all inquisitive about whom I went out with. It's seriously going to mess with him."

"Well, by all means, here catch. Take my car. You don't want to keep Mr. Newton or Mike waiting for that matter…"

Edward pulls me in for a long deep kiss. As he breaks with it, I'm now dizzy for an entirely different reason.

"Wait, Bella, you almost for your cannoli."

He runs inside quickly getting the delectable confection.

"Thanks. I'll see you at 9:20 tonight. I'll make a quick stir fry when I get home."

I go to take the pastry from him.

"No, no open up…"

I open wide, and he shoves one into my mouth.

"Now that's a look I could get used to, seeing you with something phallic-shaped stuffed in your mouth that I have given you."

I nearly choke on it trying to speak, so I just flip him my middle finger as I begin driving off. Oh he is so going to get his tonight.

"Bye Bella, thank you for helping me."

He yells it back at me while wickedly smiling like the goofball he is.

As I pull further away, despite his last action, I reason there may be hope after all.

Now to break the silence, let's see what Edward has in his CD player that I can listen to.

* * *

A/N:

Next up Edward's getting some help from Esme.

* * *

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Muwah!


	15. Pineapple Upside-Down Cullen

Welcome to PAD's access cable program.

Stephenie Meyer owns the entire Twilight network.

I just want to borrow some of her airspace.

* * *

Pineapple Upside-Down Cullen

* * *

As soon as Bella leaves, I'm back in my room. God, I totally forgot about the puke in the bag and was so totally thankful that not only did Bella not kick my ass but that for some unknown reason still wants to be with me. I wasn't kidding when I told her how messed up Jazz, and I got that night. The vomit wasn't the only form of bodily fluids in there. I remember laughing so hard about so much stupid shit, I think I peed on myself while in my psychedelically induced haze. But of course, Bella didn't need to know that. Jasper and I were looking at hilarious Jackass-type stuff on You Tube, that thankfully we decided not to act upon, and couldn't contain ourselves. The mushrooms only made that stuff even funnier. Everything was so hilarious I think I cried my tear ducts clean as nothing even came out after a while. And my stomach muscles were so sore the next day I felt as if I had done a few thousand sit-ups. I think we just passed out after that. I know I had extremely fucked-up dreams all night with dragons, castles, and wizards. I think Harry Potter even tried to come onto to me in my sleep. It was some weird prep school androgynous shit. I think it was prompted by the fact that we nodded-off during a "Potterthon" on cable, which would explain it. I know at some point I woke up and saw Jazz sleeping with his earbuds on and porn playing on my Macbook, and I wouldn't even be a bit surprised if Jazz's jizz were among the other bodily fluids on that blanket. In retrospect, I can certainly understand Bella's mortification. Damn, now that I think about it that shit was pretty gross.

I've really made a lot of progress on my room. All of my dirty clothes are bagged and in Bella's truck. My clean ones are either hung up in my closet or folded up half-assed in one of my dressers. I'm anxious for Bella to actually show me how to fold stuff correctly when we go to the laundry mat tomorrow. _Hmm Bella and washers and dryers_…

* * *

During my last trip outside to put my clothes in her truck, I realized I had to say goodbye to the _girls_ one last time. Initially, I carefully placed the bag in one of the corners of her truck where it wouldn't get buried, and I could get at it easily. I knew I would want to have a few parting thoughts after Bella left, and now it's time. I opened the bag as it was taboo. I knew I shouldn't be doing this as I actually felt guilty as if I were cheating on Bella. But I couldn't resist. Almost as if this were a rite of passage, I pulled each fine piece of lingerie out and fondled those cups reverently, reminiscing each encounter. It didn't matter whether some girls just handed me their articles without me getting my hands on parts of them. It also didn't matter if I were actually lucky enough to touch what was being supported. What mattered was this: I would never collect any of these ever again, meaning I could never touch another set of breasts other than Bella's.

_Oh, what have I gotten myself into? Can I handle this? Am I strong enough? Is Bella worth it?_

In my quiet reflection, my inner monologue understood this moment and began playing "Taps". I think my eyes even misted a bit. Although I'm mourning the loss of my youth and of my bachelorhood, I don't regret in the least what I'm getting into. I love Bella, and if I want to make things work between us, I have to accept growing up.

I surmised I've been out here long enough and don't need the neighbors looking out of their windows thinking deviant thoughts about me and my fetishes. With a heave of my heart, a twist of black plastic and a zip of a yellow tie, this chapter of my life is now closed. I have a beautiful girl who for some unknown reason is willing to put up with my crazy, funky, messy, ass, and I'd be the dumbest guy on this planet if I didn't recognize what she is offering me. I scope out our lot before raising my right hand above my brow in send-off giving a quick salute as if to say thanks for the memories before making my way back inside.

* * *

Once back indoors I grab my iPhone and text my mom. She agrees to Facetime me at around 7:30, which is good because I'll have enough time to vacuum my room, shampoo the rug and take a shower before then.

Now that I've removed all of my clothes, spent alcohol bottles, empty energy drink cans and additional forms of shit, junk, and garbage from my room, it feels pretty good in here. I'm not tripping on stuff and stubbing my toes, and I think I will actually be able to the find things I'm looking for. As I vacuum, I stop to pick up all of the loose change. There must be at least fifty dollars here, which is serendipitous, in a way because I will probably need every bit of it to do laundry tomorrow. I also find a dozen girls' earrings, four necklaces, an eyebrow post, two belly button rings, three bracelets, and a tongue ring, _the _tongue ring –yeah I remember that night. Chelsea was so hot, and when she went down on me, that thing that she did with her..._Don't go there Cullen_. I have Bella now. We can make our own kinky memories; that's the digression I should be focusing on. _Kinky memories, with Bella, hmm_…

Before I know it, not only is my room vacuumed but also shampooed. I don't even recall where the time went. If I had known that housework was this good in providing a platform for daydreaming and fantasizing, I would have taken up these kinds of chores a long time ago. The consolation is this, if Bella shoots me down tonight, at least I have a lot of shit worked out for my spank bank.

I give my room a good once over. My bed is made with a brand new comforter and sheets. Everything is put away, and I even Lemon-Pledged. The space really looks clean, maybe even cleaner than when we first moved in. It smells especially nice too. I give myself a fist pump because I feel like a man for once instead of a chump that has to go begging to Bella to get her to do my shit. Maybe I can put some scented candles in here like the brand new ones mom got me for Christmas. But I won't use any of those super smelly girly-stuff ones. Sandalwood or musk or something similar ought to do it. With my luck though, I had better not light them until Bella comes home. With my room being so clean now, I hope Bella will want to sleep in here tonight. I guess I should be hoping that Bella will want to sleep with me at all. I shouldn't count chickens, look in horses' mouths, rely on the Cullen charm or my great acting abilities. This is Bella. I just need to be me.

Maybe I'll get lucky tonight, and that's what it will be if I'm fortunate enough. Every time I think about what's happened in the last few days, I can't believe we're together -that we're going to try this. When she told me she wanted to try this, I had just about lost it. I still get choked up. Call me a pussy, but there is nothing better than when your girl, for whom you've unconsciously pined over for God knows how long, just tells you the feelings she has for you for the very first time. That shit just makes you think you've won Powerball, Mega Millions, and all of the scratch-off's combined. And in a way I have won them all-because I have her. We still haven't said _the_ three words out loud. But it doesn't matter. I know the feelings are there. Why else would she have endured my eccentric ways? Lots of girls know of my strange habits, but no other girl knows the important stuff Bella knows about me. She's seen it all, the embarrassing, the emblazoning, the agonizing and the antagonizing. Other girls may know my body better, but they don't know what's in my brain or in my heart. Outside of Jazz, Bella's the only person who knows how my fucked-up mind works, and yet she can still love me unconditionally just the same even if those words haven't been shared.

* * *

In reflecting, I think I had feelings for her when we first met. How many people do you know that can honestly say they have had blind dates with naked introductions? Our moms arranged just that. They both bathed Bella and I together at my house after we all lost electricity from a storm. I hadn't even met Bella before that. My mom invited Rene, Bella's mom, who she met grocery shopping, over because we had a generator. I think Bella and me were two years old at the time. I remember my mom saying something about saving water, and the next thing I knew was that there was a beautiful little Hersey bar-haired girl with Pillsbury vanilla frosting skin and dark brown M&M eyes sharing my oversize kitchen sink with me.

We splashed about and played with our squeaky water toys, trading them occasionally. Mine was an elephant my mom named "Trumpet" while Bella had a swan, go figure. Curious as all little boys are, I watched Bella as she made Trumpet's snout disappear a little into a part of her that I didn't have. I think I must have peed in the water after that because Bella "Uh oh'd", which alerted me as to what I had done. She was as curious about mine as I was about hers, and of course we had to touch each other's. Bella giggled when she squeezed that part of me, and in some sick, twisted way, it just felt right. It wasn't like my own hand or like my mom's or my dad's when either of them had to clean me up. It felt different, but it felt nice. Call me a pervert or a freak or a what-the-fuck-ever, but the human touch is the human touch. We're all mammals that thrive off of sensory experiences.

I remember being lost in my own head over her hand on me until Bella dropped her swan on the floor. Our moms were talking and drinking coffee at the kitchen table and didn't see. Bella started pouting the lips of her cute little mouth and was working herself up to cry. Tears started running down her cheeks, but she didn't make a sound. I think it broke my heart to see her that way, so I did the noble thing. I gave her my elephant with the spouting snout to play with. It didn't matter that I no longer had a toy, watching Bella play with my pachyderm that morning brought on more than enough joy for me. When it finally dawned on her that I was sans elephant, she offered me the squeaky thing back. But I just shook my head and smiled. I think I even said "You puay wiv it." And with that, she gave me her beautiful smile and said "Kiff" before planting her lips on mine. No one had ever done that to me outside of my family, and Bella's kiss felt nothing like theirs. I think from then on it was just normal for us to greet each other that way with accompanying hugs also. I know our mothers certainly encouraged our cordial behaviors.

Over the years we have just been us, Edward and Bella, first best friends, then roommates, now lovers, hopefully. Off into the future, who knows? I won't rush her. Whenever she's ready to pursue any aspect of this, she'll let me know. But, in the meantime, the relationship CD I borrowed from my professor implied that it can't hurt to set the right scene. So on to my next plan, it's time to take a shower and talk to mom.

* * *

Now fresh, clean and relieved of a little sexual tension below my belt, I'm prepared to talk to Mom. I boot up my Macbook on the kitchen counter, and start pulling stuff out of the fridge and laying it out while I wait. Like clockwork, Mom's there eagerly waiting for me.

"Hi sweetie, how are you? You poor thing, you look okay. Are you still hurting? Did Bella take good care of you last night? Did you end up going to the ER today to get checked out? Do you need me to come over there and cook for you? How are you doing with school? Do you like all of your classes this semester? Are you getting good grades? Have you met any nice girls? When are you going to bring one home to meet your father and me? Are you still listening to anything I'm saying?"

In my head, I say, Mom, take a breath! She and I go through this every time. I would swear that Jazz and I were switched at birth if I didn't look so much like my parents. He and my mom are so much alike it's eerie. At least he's got weed and Adderall to mellow him out. But I think I ought to talk to our vet about Mom to see if I can weasel some Ketamine out of him for her. She seriously needs to tranquilize herself. Mick and Keith were certainly on to something with "Mother's Little Helper". Mom was actually normal that time she had to take Valium. She was so normal that Emmett and I stared at Dad silently -_while we_ _had the most pleasant meal our of lives at our dining room table_- asking him to please consider putting her on the stuff permanently, but I know as much as it would have benefitted all of us, Mom is just Mom, and we all have to live with her.

"Fine. No. Yes. No. No. Good. Most. Absolutely. Some. Soon. Of course, I am."

I get her typical "hmpf" and a little grumbling because she forgets how spectacular my recall is. But we're good.

"So, Edward why are we Facetiming tonight?"

"Can't I just want to spend time with my_ mother_?"

She gives me her best hairy scary raised eyebrow, and I know she sees right through me.

"Okay, okay, I have a favor to ask you."

"Go on."

"I want to cook dinner for Bella tonight without screwing it up. If you walk me through everything step-by-step, it will leave less of an opportunity for me to mess things up, destroy her kitchen, burn down the apartment. Well, you get the idea. She's been amazingly great, and I want to do something nice and prepare something palatable.

I know my mom already thinks the world of Bella. Thankfully, she knows nothing about last night; otherwise she would be planning our wedding. _Wedding? WTF, Cullen, it's too soon for that thought_.

"Oh Edward, that's incredibly sweet. My little boy is finally growing up. How is Bella, anyway? Does she like her classes? Has she decided on her major yet? Does she still work at that sporting goods place? How are you to getting along? Does she cook enough for you; you look a little thin? Is she seeing anyone yet? When are you two coming over for dinner?"

"Focus Mom, focus, she's good. She likes her classes. She hasn't decided on a major, yet. She still works at Newton's. We're getting along great -_actually better than great, but you don't need to know that yet_. She cooks plenty, and her food's always fantastic; in fact I gained about five pounds. She's kind of seeing someone- _you don't need to know about that either_. Maybe we can come over the Sunday after next. We'll bring Jazz with us.

"Oh wonderful, I'll have to order a fresh turkey from the Safeway. You know how much you boys can all eat. I'll have to get busy on thinking about desserts and sides so I can send you guys back with a bunch of leftovers and snacks. Maybe you guys can stay over Saturday night, so you don't have to drive both ways in the same day. I'm sure Bella would want to spend some time at her house as well. Ooh, I can just have Rene and Charlie come over here. I have to start planning."

"Whoa, Mom, I have to ask Bella and Jazz first, or maybe you can just text them. I need your help now. I have to get dinner started."

"Okay, Edward I'll rein it in. Let me see what you've got to work with."

I proceed to show mom everything I've pulled out of the fridge. We agreed upon a pork stir-fry with snow peas, pineapple, broccoli, mushrooms, cashews and brown rice. With the left over pineapple Mom showed me how to make a cake-mix version of her pineapple upside-down creation. Baking is kind of fun. I've already made the stir fry as the cake was cooking in the oven and have just taken the cake out and flipped it onto a plate. It turned out pretty impressive for my first attempt. I'm keeping the stir fry on warm in our counter-top turbo oven. It will go off automatically in about ten minutes, which is when I expect Bella home. I'm pretty proud of myself that I was able to pull this off. I honestly didn't know cooking was this easy. I also had time to do the dishes. I didn't use anywhere near the amount of detergent I used the last time, and I didn't break any either.

The table is set, the food is ready, and I have a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge if Bella wants some. I even put tapered candles on the table, unlit of course. I still don't trust myself. The CD my Dr. Cope lent me has come in handy. It's gotten me into thinking about deliberate behaviors instead of impulsive acts. There's nothing wrong with spontaneity as long as consequences are considered first. I think my laying off the weed for a few days has helped as well. I find myself being more aware of my actions. I guess that's a good because Bella's coming home to me, Edward her boyfriend, not just Edward her roommate. I guess I'm doing something right.

Well, it's almost time, date night is about to commence. But first, I need to work the knots out of my back. Between Felix laying me out last night, and all of this work today, my back is painfully sore. I never realized how difficult housework is and make a mental note to give Bella more back rubs when she does it. I think I have time before Bella gets home to hang upside-down on my gravity inversion board and decide to give it go.

* * *

As I walk into my room, I can't believe how good it smells. I turned the heat on high to help dry the rug out and put floor fans out to circulate the air better. It's dry, so I put the fans away and turn down the heat. I get onto my board, strap my feet in and push backward. Oh that feels so good, almost better than sex. I do about ten stretching repetitions and decide I've had enough hang time as Bella should be home any minute. I go to pull myself up, and I'm stuck. I can't use my stomach muscles because of where Felix hit me yesterday. If I try to wiggle to one side so I can pull myself up that way, I could tip it over, so much for having a spotter. Shit, I'll just have to wait for Bella. Some knight in shining armor I am, my girl has to save my ass every time.

I don't have my phone on me. I left it in the kitchen. I have no idea what time it is. I think Bella should have been home by now. I've counted 21,613 fibers on my carpet in the patch I can see. I've recited the alphabet backwards three times. I've played Mozart's symphony No. 41 and Haydn's symphony No. 102 in my head. I've covered all the elements in the periodic table. I've recollected all of the major mathematical formulas I've learned thus far. I've remembered all of the major events of the twentieth century. It feels like all of my blood is now in my brain. And I think I have to pee. I am now extremely sleepy. Maybe I can just take a nap.

"_Edward, I'm home...Sorry I'm late. They had a birthday party for Samantha so I had to stay otherwise it would have been rude. I called and left a message, but I guess you were busy. By the way, I found your professor's CD in your CD player, and I think it was unbelievably sweet of you to borrow it. In fact, you've just scored yourself some major sexin' points…What the…Edward, What did you? … How wonderful, you cooked for me…And you made a cake… and you cleaned up after yourself! Edward, where are you? I want that incredibly hot, steaming piece of man candy, and I want you to jump my ass. Well, maybe not my ass, but you know what I mean. Edward… Edward? Oh my God, Edward!"_

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A/N's:

I'm sorry for the cliffie.

Bella's point of view will be up next.

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Please donate to the Fandom4OK compilation. I have signed on to do an O/S entitled: "For The Kindness of a Stranger" ; it is an excerpt from that story, which will begin posting in here in September. It also contains a pretty hot lemon. The teaser for it is as follows:

Bella's world was about to change when she realized she purchased a million dollar lottery ticket and could now expand her daycare. Just as easily given, her winnings were whisked away by an EF-5 tornado leveling her home, business and community. Hope seemed out of her reach until a handsome, battered stranger came limping into her life.

As little as ten dollars will get you a copy of the compilation. Nearly one hundred authors have signed on as of this writing. Many of them can be found in the list below.

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If you haven't already done so please check out these amazing authors:

Bornonhalloween: "Guilty As Sin"

ThreeHotPotatoes: "Twi Trek" and "Pledge Week"

RobsMyYummyCabanaBoy: "Tip of the Spear" and "Last Call"

JiffyKate: "Crash Zone" and "Bella Donna"

Redtini: "How To Date a Movie Star" and her sequel "How To Marry a Movie Star."

LayAtHomeMom: "Hooked Up and Locked Down" and "In Your Room"

Jonesn: "Bear Creek Road" and "In Mates"

Daphodill: "CTA Dreams"

Ohgeefantasy: "Midnight Confessions" and "Fly and Be Free"

Gabby1017: "Under My Nose" and "Finding Home"

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If you haven't done so already, please find me on Facebook, I'm Apocalyptic Depository there.

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Also, If you love these two please recommend them.

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Don't forget to review me your thoughts. Your words help to shape mine.

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Thank you for reading.

PAD


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